


Director and General

by LadySieben



Series: Tangled Ties [1]
Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-01 19:18:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 143,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2784680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySieben/pseuds/LadySieben
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(AU)<br/>Vincent wakes up nearly thirty years after being locked up in a coffin by Hojo and Lucrecia to find that they’re both dead and Sephiroth, against all odds, is alive and well—or as well as a genetic experiment can be. After a bit of coercion and emotional blackmail from Rufus and Veld, Vincent decides to rejoin the Turks as Head of the Department. Things go rather well until Vincent starts getting hot flashes and, almost at the same time, Sephiroth approaches him with a desire to be friends. <br/>[Rated for later chapters]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reminiscence

**Author's Note:**

> That summary SUCKS. I apologise about that. Most of what you need to know about this AU's setting you'll find on the first chapter so hopefully you won't feel so lost after reading it.
> 
> Since this is an AU, some characters might come out different than in the original set of events, but I'll still try not to deviate too much from canon behaviour. 
> 
> This is all set around four years after the original game starts, although almost none of the events in the Compilation have taken place here. Sephiroth didn't go insane because of Jenova, a lot of characters that died during Crisis Core and afterwards are alive, and some died earlier. Some won't even appear throughout, at least not physically--they might get a mention here and there but it's not my intention to bring back everyone from Cloud's team into this. 
> 
> A note regarding Aerith and Sephiroth's names. I had Sephiroth take Gast's last name (I'm assuming Faremis is his last name and not his given name--even if that's not the case, I'm not going to change it later on) while choosing Gainsborough to be Ifalna's last name. Aerith takes her mother's last name over her father's because she wants to continue the Cetra line. Elmyra won't be making an appearance in this story for obvious reasons but I didn't want to change Aerith's name.
> 
> Standard disclaimer applies: I own nothing but the plot bunnies hopping around. All characters and previous scenarios belong to Square-Enix, Nomura-sama and Kojima-sensei.

Vincent Valentine pressed the button on the elevator’s keypad that would take it to his office’s floor and slumped against the cool glass surface of the carriage that overlooked Midgar, heaving a tired and annoyed sigh. He knew he shouldn’t have accepted the position of Director of the Turks; bureaucratic work really wasn’t his forte. However, with Veld past the age of retiring and Tseng being assigned as Rufus Shinra’s bodyguard, there really wasn’t anyone else. Sure, he could have declined Rufus’s offer and let the department, along with all its employees, in the hands of Heidegger, but that would’ve been unconscionable to say the least. Despite any misgivings Vincent might have about the company he found himself working for once again, his loyalty to his fellow Turks ran deep. Nearly thirty years in a coffin could and would not change that fact.

Then there was the whole mess that led him to the aforementioned coffin, of course. He had been awoken not four years before from a forced slumber imposed upon him by Professors Hojo and Lucrecia Crescent after they killed him and then saw fit to experiment on him, turning him into something that was both less and more human. He had somehow summed it up by thinking he became more than a human in gaining Galian and Chaos at the expense of some of his basic humanity. It was a weird concept, at any rate, and if thirty years of solitude hadn’t helped him come to a logic conclusion no extra amount of time would help, so he’d rather not dwell on it much. Except he was reminded of it daily—whenever he looked in the mirror he was aware of the fact that his body did not age, eternally stuck shy of thirty years old. And then there were both Galian and Chaos’s thoughts and memories meshing with his. 

Not a lot of people knew about his unfortunate fate at the hands of two of Shinra’s top scientists. There was Rufus, who of course had access to all company files, and Veld knew because Vincent had been his partner prior to disappearing and he felt no need to hide his condition from him. Cloud Strife and Kunsel Larouche, both Soldiers Second Class, had found out the hard way during their trek from Nibelheim to Rocket Town after the younger men found Vincent at the old Shinra Mansion and were ordered to bring him back to Midgar. They had run into a pack of Nibel wolves and during the struggle Vincent found himself losing control of Galian and transforming in front of the younger men. Luckily, Vincent had gained a modicum of sway over the beast and managed to subdue him after the wolves were disposed of. Cloud and Kunsel had read some of Hojo’s files on Vincent back at the mansion and understood where the change came from; that, along with Vincent’s reassurances that Galian had come forth only because the gunman was still weakened from all the time spent in a coffin, put the young Soldiers at ease.  

Lastly, the four Soldiers First Class—Sephiroth Faremis, Angeal Hewley, Genesis Rhapsodos, and Zack Fair—had been briefed when the decision to rehire Vincent had been made. Cloud, being Zack’s close friend, had been there to make sure they understood the need for secrecy and to vouch for Vincent’s mental stability. All in all, that meeting went rather well, except for the fact that Vincent felt Sephiroth paying him close attention ever since. 

This was bothersome for Vincent for a simple reason: it was Sephiroth’s biological parents who played around with him and then left him to rot in a coffin for almost three decades. And they had done it because Vincent had the misfortune of falling in love with Lucrecia without knowing she was Hojo’s wife. It had been terrible for Vincent to find this out, but it was nothing compared to the horror and disgust he felt when he found out they were behind the Jenova Project and were planning to use themselves and their child as guinea pigs. 

Taking a stand against the woman he loved and her deranged husband had gotten him nowhere; he was killed, revived, and turned into something not quite human and, once they were done with him, Lucrecia and Hojo went ahead and played god with their unborn son. A son who grew up to be quite possibly the best fighter and strategist the world had ever seen, not to mention an unfairly attractive man. Intelligent and witty, it was a joy to hear the man talk with anyone, whether subalterns, peers, or superiors. Fortunately, he seemed to have dodged a biological bullet by not inheriting his parents’ crazy and malicious streak. 

Speaking of Sephiroth’s parents, Vincent wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was glad they were both dead. His juvenile love for her notwithstanding, Vincent couldn’t muster an ounce of sadness for Lucrecia’s dead shortly after Sephiroth’s birth. As for Hojo, an Avalanche raid had claimed his life some fifteen years after he’d consigned Vincent to his coffin, leaving Sephiroth in the care of Professor Gast Faremis, who the Turks had tracked down under President Shinra’s orders. 

Gast returned to Midgar with his wife Ifalna Gainsborough and Aerith, their thirteen-year-old daughter, and adopted Sephiroth as his own. It wasn’t easy, but Gast and his family were able to undo the damage Hojo had inflicted on his son’s psyche, allowing him to become Shinra’s top ranking general without losing his sanity or humanity. In fact, Sephiroth had grown very fond of his adoptive family, even adopting Gast’s last name as his own, as well as Ifalna’s respect for the life of the Planet. Having Angeal and Genesis close by helped, as well, as they had fallen victim to Shinra’s Science Department’s experiments at the hands of Professor Hollander and knew what Sephiroth’d had to endure growing up in the clutches of a madman. 

The three of them—Sephiroth, Angeal, and Genesis—quickly climbed the ranks of Shinra’s army and became a tight-knit troupe capable of dealing with whatever the company required of them. By the time they were in their late twenties, they were joined by Zack Fair and together they trained and led the best army Shinra had ever seen. They ended the Wutai conflict swiftly and with minimal loses for both sides, ensuring Shinra’s continued growth and development. It was after this that President Shinra passed away, leaving the company in Rufus Shinra’s hands. 

Just like Sephiroth, Rufus had grown up largely influenced by Professor Faremis and Ifalna’s ideology regarding the Planet. Ever since he was a teenager he heard them tell his father about the dangers of syphoning and processing mako. While his father continuously ignored their warnings in favour of lining his pockets with money, Rufus listened to them intently and took their words to heart. This led him to spend some years at Cosmo Canyon under Bugenhagen’s tutelage. After his father’s death, Rufus returned to Migdar to take over as Shinra’s president and one of his first moves was to vow to find alternate energy sources to mako in order to stop draining the life of the Planet. For this he enlisted the help of Reeve Tuesti, relieving him from his position as Director of Urban Development and appointing him as head of the newly created Research and Development Department. Rufus instructed Reeve to work closely with the Science Department, and he asked Ifalna and Aerith to join the R&D area as consultants, along with Shalua Rui and Bugenhagen. 

It was around this time that Rufus ordered Lazard Deusericus, his half-brother on his father’s side, to launch a clean-up mission of all Shinra owned properties, particularly those used by the Science Department. Rufus was aware that stopping mako extraction would take its toll on the four Soldiers First Class, since their training and development included the use of the substance in order to enhance their abilities. Shinra was a large company and by no means devoid of enemies, and Rufus wasn’t about to let his elite force be taken from him as a side effect of his efforts to preserve the life of the Planet. Besides, he more or less grew up alongside Sephiroth and considered him a close friend, and he didn’t want him or the other three to suffer needlessly. 

Lazard sent Cloud and Kunsel to inspect the Shinra Mansion at Nibelheim. Cloud had been born and raised in Nibelheim so he was well acquainted with the town and its surrounding areas, making him the ideal candidate for the mission. Kunsel was sent with him at Zack’s request; the young First was close friends with both Seconds and he had more or less taken it upon himself to look after Cloud given that the younger man had difficulties making it into the Soldier program. Cloud appreciated Zack’s concern and welcomed Kunsel’s presence because visiting his hometown was distressing for him ever since his mother passed away two years earlier during a fire that consumed most of the town. The fact that Shinra had repaired the city in record time and no trace of the fire remained made Cloud even more uneasy, because it made it seem as if nothing had happened and his entire childhood had been a fantasy of sorts. 

While checking the mansion, the Soldiers found tons of files left behind by Hojo and Lucrecia. Most of them pertained to the Jenova Project but there were a couple that spoke of another experiment conducted by the couple. Following a cryptic message left behind by Hojo, Cloud found a room filled with coffins and in one of them he found Vincent. Although disoriented, Vincent found something familiar about Cloud. Upon hearing the youth’s name, he realised he’d met Cloud’s mother during his assignment at Nibelheim. She was one of the few townspeople who wasn’t afraid of him for being a Turk and was kind to him. This led Vincent to spend a good deal of time with her whenever he had free time from his obligations to the scientists at the mansion; he even helped patch up her roof before a particularly nasty rainstorm. 

Cloud vaguely remembered his mother mentioning a well-mannered Turk who spent several months in the village before mysteriously vanishing. She brought him up whenever a rainstorm came, and now he knew why. Hearing this and other stories made Cloud instantly warm up to Vincent. When the former Turk told him some of his ordeal at hands of Hojo and his wife, Cloud felt guilty about having to take him back to Midgar even if both scientists were now dead. Vincent, however, didn’t seem to mind and even appeared curious about the prospect. 

In truth, Vincent wanted answers as to Sephiroth’s upbringing as well as the fate of the Turks. He was largely relieved to find things had turned out as best as possible under the circumstances and was prepared to try to find his place in society after twenty-eight years of limbo. 

However, things wouldn’t be so easy. 

He began feeling ill a few days after arriving in Midgar and he had no idea what was wrong. He was still at Shinra Headquarters awaiting debriefing with at least two departments so he had no choice but to go to the labs to try to find medical assistance. Thankfully for him, Professor Faremis was in and agreed to be his attending physician. After extensive physical exams and with help from Hojo’s notes, they found out that Vincent’s body was going through a circadian rhythm readjustment. Basically, after nearly thirty years of sleeping round the clock with far and in between periods of wakefulness, Vincent’s metabolism was trying to get used to a regular day-and-night cycle. Since he wasn’t technically ill, there was no real cure and all he had to do was wait it out. Gast insisted on keeping him in the medical wing of the Shinra Building but Vincent refused to be kept anywhere that resembled a lab or a hospital. Understanding his reluctance, Gast cleared things with Rufus and Vincent was provided a room in one of the residential floors of the building. 

It took him six months to be able to sleep for more than fifteen minutes at a time, and to do so at night and not at random times during the day. It was another two months before the nightmares featuring Hojo, Lucrecia, and a rampaging Galian accompanied by a bloodthirsty Chaos receded. Three more months before he taught his body that three meals a day were a necessity and not punishment; all the same, he still forgot to eat sometimes, which resulted in his collapsing several times in his office. He still couldn’t spend large amounts of time under direct sunlight without sunscreen or clothes that covered most of his body, and he had to recur to sleeping pills at least once a week, but all in all he was functional once more about a year after his return to the land of the living. 

In that time he had managed to reach a mutually beneficial agreement with Chaos. Vincent would allow him a few hours a week to take over his body and stretch his limbs far away from innocent bystanders; in return, Chaos would tame Galian and keep him dormant so he wouldn’t try to take over Vincent’s body unless the gunman needed his strength for whatever reason. 

Once he was deemed “cured”, Vincent was called to a meeting with Rufus, Lazard, Veld, and Gast. Apparently, they all wanted Vincent to return to Shinra’s ranks as Director of the Investigation Division of the General Affairs Department. He tried to refuse without even hearing their offer, but Veld played the ‘we used to be partners’ card and he was forced to at least hear them out. He was promised a good salary and mostly clerical work with minimal field labor, as well as free rein to investigate anything pertaining to the experiments performed on him. Gast also promised to help him out with whatever health issues that might arise further down the road and assured him that only he, Gast, and his most trusted associates would have access to Vincent himself and to his files. 

Vincent had planned to leave Shinra and to spend his time researching everything he could about Chaos. During the physical exams conducted by Professor Faremis, it had been discovered that Lucrecia had grafted protomateria unto Vincent’s body in order to stabilise the Weapon. After talking things over with Chaos, Vincent found out that the protomateria was growing weak and would have to be recharged to avoid potentially life threatening conditions. He had no idea how to go about it, but having all of Shinra’s resources at his disposal would make things considerably easier. 

He was still pondering this when Veld decided to bring out the big guns by saying that if Vincent didn’t take his position as Director of the Turks, the division would be handed over to Heidegger, Head of the Public Safety Maintenance Department. Vincent blanched; he knew Heidegger from before his imprisonment and had the misfortune of running into the beastly man several times since his return. Leaving the Turks in his hands was tantamount to a death sentence for each and every member, something Veld knew Vincent would do anything to avoid. Out of curiosity and, in a way, testing the waters in case he decided to leave Shinra at a later time, Vincent asked why Tseng couldn’t take the job. Rufus was the one to answer, stating Veld’s current second-in-command had been assigned as his bodyguard and, while he would continue most of his field duties as a Turk, his main assignment would be to keep Rufus safe, particularly in trips out of town. 

Knowing he had been cornered by three of the men in the room, Vincent resigned himself to his fate and accepted the position of Director of the Turks. That had been nearly three years ago and, while he couldn’t say that he truly regretted it, there were days when Vincent really wished he had said no. 

Today was one of those days. It was only midday but he had already been in two meetings regarding Avalanche’s attacks on Gongaga and Fort Condor. In spite of Rufus’s assurances to the world that all of Shinra’s mako reactors would be shutdown within the next five to seven years, Avalanche continued to target Shinra facilities the world over, causing enormous financial loses for the company, not to mention the unnecessary loss of innocent lives. Both he and Lazard were largely made responsible for this so he had to collaborate with him to try to come up with better strategies to protect Shinra’s assets. Lazard was a very intelligent and capable man, which made their meetings bearable and even amicable, but the stress brought on by the knowledge that Avalanche seemed to always be one step ahead of them took a toll on everyone. 

The second meeting he’d had was with Scarlet, Head of the Weapons Development Department, and Heidegger. After the deceased Hojo and Lucrecia, Scarlet and Heidegger were the people Vincent hated the most in all of Shinra—perhaps in the whole world. Scarlet was rude and cold hearted and seemed to delight in the destruction her weapons caused, not caring in the least that the initial spirit of her department was protection rather than extermination. As for Heidegger, he was brash, loud, and irritating, and hated the Turks with a passion. He used to be in charge of the military, but after Rufus took over the presidency, he passed the leadership of the military to Lazard and left Heidegger in charge of the Midgar Police Department only. Since then, Lazard had been added to Heidegger’s long list of people he hated; Vincent made the list the second he was appointed Director of the Turks and not a day went by when Heidegger didn’t find fault with the Head Turk’s work.

This particular meeting had been long and specially stressful for Vincent because Scarlet wanted the Turks to try some new weapons that seemed shady at best, and Heidegger criticised each Turks’ performance, deeming them nothing more than assassins for hire with no brains. Vincent had to find ways to deny Scarlet’s request without incurring in her wrath while finding it within himself not to put three bullets between Heidegger’s eyes. He cut the meeting short as soon as he could and rushed to the elevator to seek the comfort of his office. 

He pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the elevator and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths to try to calm himself. He had nearly achieved a neutral state when he felt the elevator jerk to a stop. With a frown, he looked to the door and saw it open eight stories before his floor to allow Sephiroth in. As it always happened when he was in the presence of the General, Vincent felt immediately uncomfortable. Not to seem rude, he nodded towards the younger man and mumbled a greeting; Sephiroth eyed him curiously and nodded back, not saying a word. After pressing the button for his floor, the silver haired man leaned on the wall opposite to Vincent, folding his arms over his chest and closing his eyes. 

In the almost four years since he’d been back to Midgar, Vincent had only spoken to Sephiroth during formal meetings. Whenever they met on hallways or elevators, they barely exchanged greetings. All the same, Vincent kept himself informed of Sephiroth’s progress through several sources, mainly Cloud and the reports shared between the different departments. He would also ask about him to Professor Gast, given that they were officially family. A part of him still felt guilty for not being able to stop Hojo and Lucrecia for using themselves and their son as test subjects for their crazy theories but he couldn’t get himself to even bring up the subject with the younger man. 

Given this state of affairs, it was a surprise that Sephiroth decided to try his hand at small talk with the Head Turk.

“How did your meeting with Scarlet and Heidegger go, Director?”

Doing his best to seem unaffected by this deviation from their standard routine, Vincent shook his head minutely. “Neither of them is dead and neither am I, for that matter. I would claim it a success.” 

 Anyone who said Vincent Valentine had no sense of humour had no idea what they were talking about. He even managed to make the General crack a smile.

“Indeed,” Sephiroth said. “I wonder why Rufus keeps them around.”

“He can’t get rid of them until he can make sure that they won’t be a threat to himself or the company in the future,” Vincent replied. He had figured that out on his own upon his return and Rufus had confirmed it when Vincent had asked shortly after his appointment. “They’re not as easily replaced as Palmer was. That lump of a man is an idiot and had no business being Head of the Space Program. Captain Highwind, on the other hand, is more than qualified.”

Sephiroth looked at him with the same curious gaze he always seemed to have for him, but there was a certain appreciation in it, as well. 

“I see. At any rate, Lazard tells me you have some interesting ideas regarding security for next month’s summit on alternate energy sources.”

“They need to be greatly refined,” Vincent said, waving his hand in dismissal of what he thought of as misplaced flattery. “I’m going back to my office to work on them and send the revised plan to him before the workday is over.”

“Any plans after that?”

Vincent had been looking out the window when Sephiroth’s question came and he found himself whirling his head around faster and with more force than was wise. After the light dizzy spell passed, Vincent looked carefully at Sephiroth, trying to gauge the intention behind the question. Coming up empty, all he could do was reply.

“Not particularly. Just going home and trying to remember to have dinner before going to sleep. Professor Faremis will have my head if I skip any more meals before my next physical.”

A small, fond smile curved Sephiroth’s lips. “Father is rather strict with his patients, yes. Myself included.”

“He cares for his patients’ well-being; that’s the mark of a good physician.” He paused and, not knowing how else to follow that thread, he returned to Sephiroth’s question. “What are your plans, General?”

“Ah. Well, I was hoping you could join me for drinks after work. We haven’t talked much in these four years in spite of having quite a few things in common. I would like to remedy that, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Vincent tensed and averted his gaze from Sephiroth again. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, General?”

“If you are worried about offending me in case your views about my biological parents should turn out as grim as those of pretty much everyone else who knew them, don’t be. I am well aware of my origins, Director Valentine, and have no delusions about them. Besides, it seems like we will be working closely together in the near future and I would like to get to know you better.”

Vincent turned to Sephiroth with a puzzled look. “Are they sending you to the summit? I thought Commander Rhapsodos had been assigned to represent Soldier.”

The elevator came to a stop before Sephiroth could reply and the doors opened on Vincent’s floor. He stopped them with his hand while awaiting the General’s response. 

“It appears so,” Sephiroth said. “But it’s best not to discuss it here. My invitation?”

Feeling increasingly curious, Vincent nodded. “Dinner would be fine, if you don’t mind. Like I said, I can’t skip any more meals. Where and when would you like to meet?”

Sephiroth smiled, clearly pleased. “My quarters at half past seven would be fine.”

The Turk made a quick mental calculation and nodded slowly. “I should be able to make it. I’ll call if I’m running late.”

“Don’t worry. I’m quite free after seven so waiting for you will be no imposition.”

With a last nod, Vincent let the door go. He waited until the elevator closed and started moving again before going to his office. He sat on his chair and slumped forward on his desk, resting his forehead on its cool surface. He knew he wasn’t getting a fever but he felt abnormally warm. A thought occurred to him then and he felt a flash of panic.

_Chaos,_ he called in his mind. _Chaos, are you awake?_

_I am now,_ Chaos’s rumbling voice echoed in Vincent’s head. _What is it?_

_Do we even_ get _sick anymore?_

_Not if I can help it, no. Why are you asking?_

_It’s probably nothing, but… I’m just feeling warmer than usual but I don’t feel a fever coming._

_Hmm. I’ll check, all the same. There might be a bug trying to nest somewhere._

_Thanks. Sorry for waking you up._

_Don’t mention it. Just go to work and leave the rest to me._

Work. Right. He had tons of it and letting it pile up wasn’t an option. He straightened in his chair and unlocked his computer to bring up the files he had to send to Lazard. Within five minutes, he was immersed in the security proposals and shut out everything else around him.

 

 


	2. Dinner and a Shock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth wants to be friends but Vincent doesn’t think he can have those anymore. To make matters worse, Chaos finds out what the hot flashes are about. Hint: it’s all Galian’s fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing but the plot bunnies!

An insistent knocking on his door broke through his concentration and he was forced to look up from his computer screen. He wasn’t really surprised to find that it was almost five o’clock in the afternoon and he had failed to take a break to at least snack on one of the unhealthy cups of noodles available in the vending machine conveniently set in the lounge area of the Turks’ floor. Saving his progress on the computer and rubbing his eyes, he called for whoever was outside his office to come inside.

It seemed it was Reno’s turn to make sure Vincent hadn’t passed out from exhaustion. The Director would feel offended if he hadn’t collapsed several times over the course of his two years in the position. Instead, he was grateful that his subordinates had come up with a roster to look after him. He was even more grateful to see Reno carrying a bag of Wutain take-out in one hand and a carrier with two large glasses of iced tea in the other. Other than Tseng, the redheaded Turk was the only one in the team willing to indulge Vincent’s taste for his mother’s side of the family’s native food. Rude and the two women in the team had never been fond of Wutain food but Reno was adventurous in all aspects of his life and had happily joined Vincent and Tseng at a small Wutain restaurant in Sector Three a few months after Veld retired. The younger man took an immediate liking to the food and would personally go and pick his and Vincent’s favourites when it was his turn to make sure the Director ate properly. 

“Hungry, Bossman?” Reno asked in his playful drawl.

Nodding and smiling, Vincent said, “Quite. I am sorry you had to go out of your way for me again.”

“Not a problem, Vincent. You know I actually like our lunch escapades.”

Vincent smiled and cleared his desk, then brought out two bamboo mats that he kept in his drawer for occasions such as this. He watched as Reno unloaded their food and waited until the redhead was seated before saying grace Wutain style and digging into his ginger and coriander noodle soup. Reno didn’t like soups and instead got some curry. 

“Besides,” Reno said after taking a veggie dumpling, “I know I’ve said this a thousand times already and I’ll say it as many times as it takes, but it’s the least I can do, man. I mean, if you hadn’t agreed to come back when Veld was due for retirement even after all the crap the company put you through, most of us wouldn’t even be ‘round anymore. Making sure you’re alive and well once or twice a week is nothing compared to that, yo.”

Vincent felt humbled by Reno’s heartfelt gratitude. He had no idea what to say back—he never did—so he simply nodded in acknowledgment and finished his soup in relative silence. He shared some of his pork dumplings with Reno in exchange for some of the redhead’s veggie ones, and they shared half a pint of plum ice cream. Vincent saved his tea for last while Reno had drunk his along with his lunch and, as usual, the Director ended up sharing some of his drink with the redhead. 

“Thanks, yo,” Reno said, smirking. “I think I’ll have to start ordering an extra glass of tea so I don’t end up drinking yours all the time.”

The dark-haired man laughed as he cleared his desk again. “Might be a good idea. It’s all on the company’s penny, so feel free to do so next time if you like.”

“Awesome,” Reno said, leaning back on his chair. Looking at the clock, he realised it was almost six. “Damn, that was a long lunch break. I better go finish my reports before Rude comes back from the firing range. He’ll be pissed if I make him wait after hours again.”

Noticing the time, Vincent nodded. “Sounds good. I have to finish up one more report for Lazard before clocking out, too.”

Reno looked at his boss with a surprised look. “Not working overtime today, Bossman?”

“I have plans, so I’m trying not to stay after seven,” Vincent said. 

“Oi, oi, oi, back-up, Bossman. You have _actual plans_?” 

Vincent frowned playfully and tossed a paperclip at Reno; it caught in his hair and when Reno tugged it off, some of his hair came away, too, making him yelp and Vincent laugh. 

“You deserve that for making fun of your boss. _Yes_ , I have _actual plans_ , Reno.”

“But you never do! And when we invite you out you always blow us off.”

“Not always,” Vincent defended. “It’s not my fault you almost always go out for drinks with the intention of drowning yourselves in alcohol—you know I can’t drink. Besides, until Rufus sees fit to get rid of Heidegger, we must be above reproach at all times.”

“Fine, fine,” Reno said, scratching the back of his head. “What are these plans of yours, then?”

“I’m going out for dinner with General Sephiroth.”

Reno had been sipping on the last drops of his tea and he nearly choked on them. “What the _hell_? Vincent!”

Realising how his statement could be easily misconstrued, Vincent rolled his eyes and threw another paperclip at the redhead; he caught it this time.

“It’s not a date, Reno. Get your mind off the gutter.”

“Well, now that I think about it, it would be odd, yeah. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you two together outside of briefings and meetings. But that just makes it weirder, man. Why they hell are you having dinner with him, yo?”

“It was his idea,” Vincent said, perhaps a bit too defensively. “I had a meeting with Lazard this morning to coordinate security efforts for next month’s summit and it seems like he talked about it with Sephiroth, who then decided he wanted to discuss it with me.”

“Dinner’s overkill for that, yo,” Reno said, not entirely buying Vincent’s explanation.

Realising he had grossly underestimated the redhead, Vincent decided to tell the truth—or at least as much of it as he could without bringing up his own misgivings into the conversation. “He also said we haven’t talked much in the four years since I’ve been back in spite of the things we have in common. For some reason, he decided to put an end to that and invited me out for drinks. Except I said I’d rather have dinner because if I miss any more meals Gast is going to scream my head off— _again_.”

Reno actually laughed at that and let the rest slide. “Guess I won’t have to call you tonight to make sure you had dinner, then.”

“It won’t be necessary, no,” Vincent replied, smiling. “Now go do your work and let me finish mine.”

Reno gave him a lazy salute and strode out of the office wishing Vincent a good night.

* * *

 

Vincent stretched as his computer shut down. A quick glance at the clock told him it was a quarter past seven, which meant he’d be late in spite of his best efforts to finish up early. With a heavy sigh, he left his office and locked up before dialling Sephiroth’s number, which he’d gotten off the company’s internal directory because he had neglected to ask for it in the elevator. The General picked up almost immediately and Vincent found himself momentarily floored by the younger man’s deep, silky voice.

_“Sephiroth Faremis speaking. Who is this?”_

“Uh, Valentine. Just calling to let you know I just left my office and I’ll need about half an hour to change my clothes and all.”

_“Like I said earlier, it is no problem. You’d only be arriving fifteen minutes late—that’s no Loveless-grade tragedy, Director Valentine.”_

Vincent snickered in spite of himself. “I know. I just hate being late—deeply ingrained Turks training, I’m afraid. But since I have you on the phone, is there any particular dress code involved? Just so I know whether it’s all right or not to wear my ducky tie.”

Sephiroth’s airy laugh came through the receiver. _“Casual is fine. Ducky ties are acceptable but I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to keep a straight face throughout the evening if you decide to wear one.”_

“Far be it from me to cause your reputation as an eternal stoic to crumble. No ducky tie tonight. I’ll see you soon, General.”

_“Thank you, Director. See you soon.”_

Vincent hung up and smirked as he tried to imagine everyone’s reaction if they found out he actually owned a ducky tie.  

* * *

 

Little over half an hour later, Vincent stood outside Sephiroth’s quarters wearing dress pants and a dark red silk button-up shirt. He had his hair tied up in a ponytail with his bangs clear off his face for a change. He took a deep breath and knocked twice. Sephiroth opened up quickly and seemed surprised to see Vincent wearing something other than his black Turks uniform. Vincent was equally surprised to see Sephiroth out of his leather pants and cloak and clad instead in designer jeans and an indigo cotton short-sleeved shirt. He, too, had his hair held up in a ponytail but his bangs remained in place. 

“Evening, Director,” Sephiroth greeted.

“Evening, General. Are we staying in or going out?”

“Going out,” Sephiroth said, stepping out of his apartment and locking up behind him. “I am afraid my cooking skills are non-existent and I really don’t want to risk giving you food poisoning. Father would not appreciate all his efforts to stabilise your health to go to waste due to my incompetence in the kitchen.”

Vincent grinned as he followed Sephiroth to the elevator bank. “Fair enough. Where are we going, then? I’m afraid I had a late lunch so I don’t think I’ll be able to have a large dinner.”

“What did you have for lunch?”

“Wutain food from Leviathan’s Scales over in Sector Three.”

“I’ve never been there. Is the food good?”

“It is, if you like authentic Wutain food. If you don’t, or if you prefer cheap imitations, then Leviathan’s Scales is not the place for you.”

“I enjoyed the food they offered us during the peace treaty signing in Wutai. I might look up this restaurant in the future.”

“I recommend it.”

“Duly noted. As for where we’re going, there’s a small restaurant bar over in Sector Seven aptly called Seventh Heaven. Cloud Strife’s girlfriend owns it in addition to working there.”

“Ah, yes. Cozy little place.”

They reached the ground floor of the building and headed for the train station. People greeted them along the way, although several of them seemed baffled to see the top ranking Soldier First Class going out for a night in the town with the Head Turk. It was an odd combination, to say the least. 

“You’ve been there, then?” Sephiroth asked. 

“A few times. Cloud spoke of it often enough that I eventually gave in. I’m afraid I’m a bit of a hermit and I developed a touch of agoraphobia, so the idea of being in such a small space while being surrounded by so much chatter prevents me from visiting as often as I’d like—certainly I’m not there as often as Cloud would like. But he’s a good lad, so he understands.”

Sephiroth stopped for a moment with a slightly shocked look on his usually calm features. “Director, my apologies—I didn’t know. We can go somewhere else if you prefer.”

Vincent also stopped, looking at Sephiroth with a slightly amused expression. “Don’t worry about it, Sephiroth. Like you said this afternoon, we haven’t talked much so there was no way you could’ve known. I have no problem with going to Seventh Heaven, provided you don’t want to make this a daily occurrence. I’m perfectly capable of controlling my discomfort for a few hours.”

“If you’re certain…” Sephiroth said, not completely convinced. 

Vincent smiled reassuringly and resumed walking. “Absolutely. It’s been a while since I had their chicken pot pie so I think I’ll try that. Also, Tifa’s the only bartender I know capable of putting together a non-alcoholic cocktail that doesn’t taste like sugary water.”

The silver-haired man followed the gunman to the platform and they boarded the train that would leave them in Seventh Heaven’s neighbourhood. 

“You don’t drink alcohol, then?” Sephiroth asked. He hoped he wasn’t making Vincent uncomfortable with his questions. Then again, that was what the evening was supposed to be about, getting to know each other better. 

“I try not to. It tends to mess with my still frail circadian rhythm. I made the mistake of drinking at Veld’s retirement party and it took Gast about a month to rebalance my brain chemistry. Ever since then I’ve made an effort to remain sober.”

“Did you enjoy drinking… before?” Sephiroth didn’t know how to refer to Vincent’s ordeal at Hojo and Lucrecia’s hands, so he left it vague on purpose.

The dark-haired man smiled fondly. “Yeah. I used to go out for drinks with Veld after every mission, successful or not, provided we didn’t wind up in the hospital. We often ended up getting kicked out of the bar, but it was worth it. Can’t say that I miss the terrible hangovers, though.”

“I don’t get those,” Sephiroth stated. “My body metabolises alcohol way too quickly for its side effects to affect me.”

“I see. Is it the same with the other Firsts?”

“For everyone except Zack. Whatever they did to him doesn’t make him immune to hangovers.”

“Hmm. Tough luck.”

“Maybe not. It makes him closer to a regular human than the rest of us.”

Vincent looked at Sephiroth with mild shock. This was the first time since their conversation in the elevator that the swordsman had expressed any sort of negative view on, well, anything. He wondered if it was because the topic at hand was so closely related to his biological parents or because he felt more at ease being honest about his thoughts on Shinra while being away from the building’s cameras. 

The rest of the train ride was spent in the same sort of awkward silence that surrounded them when they ran into each other at Shinra Headquarters. When they arrived to Sector Seven, they made their way silently towards the bar. On their way there, they ran into Kunsel. The young Second was on his way back to headquarters after visiting his girlfriend. 

“General, Director,” he greeted them with a quick salute. “Have a good evening, sirs.”

“Evening, Kunsel,” Sephiroth said with an amicable smile. “You, too.”

“Good evening,” Vincent said. 

As soon as Kunsel was out of earshot, Vincent said, “He’s a nice kid. He and Cloud were quite understanding of my situation after they found me at the Shinra Mansion. I was half expecting one or both of them to start spreading tall tales about me, but I was pleasantly surprised when I found out that they limited themselves to reporting to Lazard and Gast.”

“Zack handpicked both to promote them from Third to Second Class, so it’s not surprising. He’s still very young but he has a good eye for people.”

“Am I to understand you approve of his relationship with Ms. Gainsborough, then?” Vincent asked, trying to make it as light a question as possible.

Sephiroth gave him an amused side glance and shrugged minutely. “I’m not even going to ask how it is you know about that. To answer your question, though, I’m not entirely sure it’s my place to approve or disapprove. She seems very happy since meeting him, and quite more lively since they started going out. So far I have no reason to object to their relationship, but he has been warned that causing her any sort of harm or grief will end very poorly for him.”

Vincent couldn’t help but laugh at the mental image the statement brought up. “I’m sure that will keep him in line. Not that I really think he needed the warning; Zack seems like a sweet, honourable young man.”

“I don’t know about sweet, but he certainly is honourable. After all, he’s Angeal’s most apt pupil. But Aerith’s my sister and I love her so I can’t help but be protective of her.” 

They arrived to Seventh Heaven about then so Vincent was excused from replying. Which was a relief because he wasn’t sure his comment about how thankful he was that Sephiroth had found a family to love and protect after being born amongst lunatics and half raised by one would be appreciated.

It appeared to be a slow night as the restaurant was mostly empty, something for which Vincent was secretly grateful. As soon as they stepped in, a young brunette with bright brown eyes came up to them with a huge smile on her lips. 

“General, Director! It’s so nice to see you both here.”

“It’s nice to see you, too, Ms. Lockhart,” Sephiroth said. 

“It has been a while,” Vincent said. “You look well, Tifa.”

“Same to you! Particularly you, Director Valentine. Have you been putting on weight?”

Sephiroth couldn’t help but laugh and Vincent soon joined him. He rubbed his left hand on his quite flat stomach and gave Tifa a playful look.

“My clothes barely fit anymore, dear. All the same, I can’t help but wonder if you still have any chicken pot pie left.”

Tifa blushed but bit back her apology, realising Vincent hadn’t been offended by her comment. “There’s two left, actually. I’ll get you seated and then I’ll ask the cook to pop them in the oven.”

“Excellent,” Vincent said. As Tifa walked them over to their table, which turned out to be a corner booth in the quietest part of the restaurant, he turned to Sephiroth. “Unless you want something else, General.”

“Chicken pot pie sounds good. I’d like some cheese fries as an appetiser, though.”

Tifa didn’t bother giving the men a menu as they sat down, instead bringing out her notepad and writing down Sephiroth’s order. “Anything else? Something to drink?”

“A virgin strawberry daiquiri for me,” Vincent said.

“A glass of Corel red wine for me; chilled,” Sephiroth said.

Tifa wrote everything down and left with a smile, promising to bring Sephiroth’s fries and their drinks in the next five minutes.

“I’m glad there’s not a lot of people tonight,” Sephiroth said after Tifa was gone. “I should’ve asked about your preference in restaurants earlier today.”

Vincent waved his hand in dismissal as he made himself comfortable in the booth. “I told you not to worry about that. It would’ve made it nearly impossible for you to find a place at which to dine.”

“What about that Wutain restaurant you mentioned?”

“It’s no bigger than this place, but they have a patio so that makes it nearly perfect.”

“Perhaps we could go there next time, then,” Sephiroth suggested.

The gunman looked at him with a mildly surprised look. “I’m not quite sure I warrant a next time, General.”

The silver-haired swordsman returned the Director’s surprised look. “And why would that be?”

“You can find almost everything there is to know about me in the files kept by the company, not to mention Professor Faremis’s first-hand knowledge of my… condition, should we say. What little isn’t there won’t take terribly long to tell.” 

“That would be enough if I were only interested in cold facts but, like I said, I want to get to know you. I’d like you to get to know me beyond the company’s files, as well. Friendships aren’t forged in a couple of hours, Vincent.”

Vincent realised that it was the first time that Sephiroth had called him by his first name rather than his surname or title. It made him feel uncomfortable, for some reason, and slightly unnerved. A part of him, however, something deeply tied to the other two entities sharing his body, felt oddly exhilarated. That, along with the fact that Sephiroth had expressed a desire for them to become friends, left him temporarily speechless. Thankfully for him, Tifa chose that precise moment to bring along their drinks and the General’s fries. 

“Here you go,” she said cheerfully. “Your food will be ready in about fifteen minutes. Is there anything else I can get you in the meantime?”

“Some iced water,” Vincent managed. “But it can wait until the pies are ready.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Sephiroth said.

As soon as Tifa was gone, the General looked into Vincent’s eyes and said, “Is there a problem?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” Vincent said. He took a sip from his daiquiri and then started rotating the cool glass between his palms, which felt strangely warm. “I guess I am confused as to why you’d want to be friends with me.”

“Before I answer that, would you mind telling me why you think it’s such a bad idea?”

Vincent stopped playing with his glass and looked at Sephiroth as if he thought that had been a dumb question. 

“Every time I look at you, I’m reminded of my failure not only as a Turk but as a man. The only reason that doesn’t drive me insane is because you turned out remarkably well when considering your parentage. I don’t know how you feel about that or about my role in your early life, and I’m not sure I even want to know. I—”

He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. He looked at the General and shrugged helplessly. “I’m sorry. Twenty-odd years in a coffin plagued by nightmares and worst-case scenarios led me to believe I’d never see you. I’m not sure you can comprehend how utterly ridiculous everything was for me after Cloud and Kunsel found me, how _surreal_ it all felt. Amidst all of that, I find that, against all odds, you’re not only alive but healthy and part of a caring family…” He shook his head slowly. “Sitting here, drinking with you and about to have dinner, that’s just… I don’t know. And you want us to be friends? Sephiroth, I wouldn’t even know where to begin to explain how… impossible and even incongruous that seems to me.”

Sephiroth ate some of his fries as he mulled Vincent’s rant over. He ate about a quarter of the platter before pushing it closer to Vincent. “They’re very good. You should have some.”

“I’ll make myself sick if I eat your fries and then the pot pie. But thanks.”

“I’ll get Tifa to pack the leftovers for you, then.”

“Thanks. Sephiroth, listen—”

The General brought his hand up in a ‘stop’ gesture. 

“It’s my turn, Vincent. First of all, I don’t blame you for anything, all right? It’s clear enough from the reports and Father’s account of things that you did everything you could to stop my biological parents from using themselves and I as guinea pigs. It’s also clear that you worry about me, or at least have some sort of interest in me, given that you often ask Father about me.”

Vincent blanched. “He… told you about that?”

Sephiroth nodded slowly. “About a year after you returned to the company. He said he wanted to make sure your worries were genuine and not just born out of misplaced guilt. He said you offered up all you knew about the Jenova Project when you returned in order to help him come up with a stabilising agent for me, Genesis, and Angeal. I know you’ve also inquired about them, but Father seems to believe you’re far more concerned about me.”

Realising Sephiroth was giving him the chance to reply, Vincent said, “I… Yes, I’m concerned for all three of you, but I’m more invested in your well-being than the others’ for obvious reasons. I had no idea there were parallel projects to the Jenova one; when I came back and read up on them I was disgusted with the entire Science Department but I still felt far more strongly for you than anyone else. I was there during the planning stages of the Jenova Project, I read Lucrecia’s notes and even managed to get my hands on some of Hojo’s transcripts and—” 

He stopped and rested his forehead on his palm. He was warm again and he somehow doubted it was just because of the conversation.

“Sorry. I got carried away. The point is I felt you were part of my life even when you hadn’t even been born when I—you know. It’s not just guilt, Sephiroth, but also a strong sense of unfulfilled duty that drives much of my interest for you.”

“What about the rest?” Seeing the confused look on Vincent’s face, he elaborated. “You said ‘much’.”

Before Vincent could think of a reply, Tifa came up to them with two steaming pans of chicken pot pie and a tall glass of iced water, as well as a new daiquiri for Vincent and the rest of the wine bottle for Sephiroth. She set their food on the table and left after making sure they didn’t need anything else.

Needing the distraction, Vincent finished his first drink and then dug into his food. The warm, flaky crust and creamy filling were as good as he remembered, if not better, and he allowed himself to get lost in the sensations for a few minutes. When he felt he was ready for it, he tackled Sephiroth’s question.

“A part of me, the hopeless romantic that refuses to die even after all the blood and violence he’s witnessed, likes to think that you could’ve been my son. I don’t look it but I know you’re aware that I’m old enough to be your father, and that same part of me likes to think that, perhaps if I’d met her sooner, Lucrecia might’ve…” He waved his hand like he used to do before continuing. “Wishful thinking, I know, but there’s not much to do while locked up in a coffin but to sleep and dream. Although it is impossible for you to be my son, although there’s nothing official that makes us anything more than acquaintances, if that, I still like to entertain the notion that we were meant to share the same time, if you will. That my life was put on hold when it was and resumed when it was because I was meant to look after you in one way or another.”

Sephiroth had been eating in silence but set his fork down with a little more force than he meant to. “That makes no sense. If you really believe that, then why is it so unfathomable for us to be friends? Whatever age you actually are, you don’t look a day older than thirty. That’s nearly two years younger than I, by the way.” 

Startled by the General’s abrupt reaction, Vincent set his fork down, too. Taking in Sephiroth’s agitated expression, Vincent felt even more confused than before. 

“It’s not just you, Sephiroth. I really don’t think I’m capable of being friends with anyone. Even Veld, whom I considered almost a brother before my life took a turn towards insanity, is ill at ease when around me. And I can’t say I blame him, given the state in which I returned.”

“What about Cloud, then?” Sephiroth pressed. “And Reno and the other Turks?”

“Cloud lost his father before he could even form a clear memory of him. I met his mother while on assignment and she told him a few stories about me. That’s why he adopted me as a surrogate father of sorts. There is no reason to deny him that, so I don’t. Over these four years he has made an effort to make my return to society go by as smoothly as possible, something for which I am infinitely grateful. The first year I was back in Midgar was particularly difficult and, if not for Cloud, I would not have ventured out of the Shinra Building at all. However, there is much about me he does not know and will never know. Not because I don’t trust him, but because it would serve no purpose to disclose certain things to him.”

A small smile crossed his features as he prepared to discuss his relationship with the Turks.

“I suppose you have deep ties with the other Soldiers First Class?” 

Sephiroth nodded. “Angeal and Genesis are my oldest friends. They’re almost like my brothers. Zack joined us not too long ago but he’s also very close to us.” 

Vincent nodded slowly before continuing. 

“In that case, you’ll probably have an easier time than most understanding what the Turks mean to me. My mother passed away when I was twelve and my father died shortly before I joined the Turks. Technically, I was an orphan when I joined the department, so Veld and the others became my family. In less than three years they knew me better than my parents ever did and I knew them just as well. We trusted each other with our lives, literally. We moved and worked not only like a unit but like a single entity—we knew what the others were thinking before they were aware of it themselves and we acted accordingly. The rumours circulating Shinra that we were more loyal to one another than to the company weren’t, and aren’t, that far off. To be a Turk means to throw your individuality into the pack to enhance it and yourself. There’s no middle ground—you go all in or you go out.

“I may have been gone for nearly thirty years but my loyalty to the Turks remains unchanged. _Once a Turk, always a Turk_ is not just a cute motto—it’s a pledge we live by. Even before I accepted to take over as head of the department, before I even _met_ them, Tseng, Cissnei, Reno, Rude, and Elena were already my family. I will never lie to or hide anything from them because I need them to trust me implicitly, just like _I_ trust _them_ unconditionally. It’s a matter of survival, both physical and spiritual, if you like.”

He took a deep breath and looked at Sephiroth straight in the eye. “Cloud chose me as his surrogate father, and the Turks became my family the moment they joined the department. I couldn’t sever either connection even if I wanted to, which I really don’t. But as for fostering new relationships… I wouldn’t even know how.”

“You can’t be seriously telling me that you intend to go through the rest of your life without allowing anyone other than Cloud and the Turks to come close to you,” Sephiroth said, obviously frustrated.

“I can, and I am.” He ate some more before adding, “It might not be a particularly long life as Professor Faremis seems to think, mind you. The truth is that, unless Chaos and I can find a way to fix the protomateria, I won’t last very many years.”

Sephiroth was shocked, to say the least. It wasn’t just the statement but the calm with which it was delivered. Vincent seemed, for all intents and purposes, resigned to this fate. To try to calm himself, he drank the rest of his glass of wine and poured himself more. He watched Vincent eat for a few long minutes, trying to find something to say that could sway the other man. 

Truth be told, he wasn’t really sure why he was so determined to befriend Vincent. The idea had come a few weeks before, when his father once again brought the gunman up in conversation. Something about his father’s tone had sparked a sense of curiosity for the older man that Sephiroth hadn’t felt before. So he went through all files pertaining to the Jenova Project and Vincent Valentine again, except this time he focused on the Turk instead of on the data about his biological parents or even himself. He accessed the previous administration’s reports on the gunman’s missions prior to being assigned to guard the scientists in Nibelheim; he also read up on Grimoire Valentine, Vincent’s father, and the research he conducted along with Lucrecia before dying in a lab accident. He remembered reading about the protomateria but he had just skimmed through that section, so there was nothing he could offer Vincent in the way of help or advice, not even comfort. 

“Your food’s getting cold,” Vincent’s rumbling baritone interrupted him. 

The General looked up sharply from the spot on his plate that he had been staring at and met Vincent’s amused stare. 

“What’s so funny?” he asked, sounding like a petulant child and feeling silly for it.

“Not exactly funny,” Vincent said, smiling a little. “Just… endearing, I guess? You look so crushed.” 

Frowning, Sephiroth prepared to reply but a sudden flash of gold across Vincent’s eyes made him stop. Before he could ask about it, Vincent excused himself and strode to the restroom.

Once inside, Vincent took stock of the stalls and decided he didn’t want to risk a panic attack so he climbed out the window and stood in the alley, leaning against the wall. 

_Okay, Chaos,_ he said, _what’s so important that it couldn’t wait until we were_ alone _at the apartment?_

_It’s about what you asked me earlier,_ Chaos answered. He hesitated for a moment before adding, _It regards the General, which is why I had to interrupt._

Vincent started and glared at the brick wall in front of him like it had been the one to make the statement. _How on Gaia can they be related?_

_What you’ve been feeling since this morning is not a prelude to sickness. It’s… Well, there’s no delicate way to put this, so here it goes. It’s soon mating season._

_I’m sorry—could you repeat that_ very _slowly, like I’m brain damaged? Because it sounded like you just said I’m in heat._

Chaos couldn’t help but chuckle as he answered. _That’s what I said, yes. Except it’s not you, but Galian._ Another strange pause. _And, well… me, too, in a way._

Vincent pressed his right palm to his forehead and closed his eyes so tightly that the colourful explosion behind his eyelids became painful. He fumbled mentally for a long time before sighing and resting his head against the wall with a resounding thud. He welcomed the pain as it helped him focus.

_You’ll get to the part where that’s in any way tied to Sephiroth in a minute. Right now, I need you to explain to me how is it possible for you two to be in heat when you don’t have a physical body. And why on Gaia is it happening_ now _? And… Well, everything! Tell me everything you know about this._

_That would take a long time and Sephiroth’s in there waiting for you. I can tell you all about it when we get home, but the part where he’s concerned you need to hear now._

_Fine. Hit me._

_I don’t have a physical body, remember?_

_Chaos…_

_Sorry. I was trying to lighten the mood because there’s no way to put this delicately, either. I’m not 100% sure how or why, but I_ am _sure that when this thing hits full-on, you’re going to be attracted to the General._

**_WHAT?_ **

It didn’t matter that Chaos didn’t have a body—Vincent felt him cringe all the same. He probably shouldn’t have raised his voice but the idea of him lusting after Sephiroth was not only preposterous but fundamentally abhorrent. Even if he amended that thought and reminded himself that it was Galian and Chaos’s feelings or hormones or whatever, it would ultimately be his body involved in the whole process. After everything the silver-haired man had been through…

_No._

_Vincent?_

Instead of answering, Vincent climbed back into the restroom, washed his hands, and returned to the dining area. He could hear Chaos protesting and trying to get him to stay put, but he shut him out. As he approached the table, he felt the palms of his hands warming up like they’d done at the beginning of the evening; he also felt his pulse rising slightly and his breathing becoming somewhat erratic. He had no idea whether he was having something akin to a hypochondriac episode now that Chaos had told him what was going on, but he didn’t want to put the theory to the test, either. He quickly went through the things he would say to Sephiroth and then he skipped to calculating the quickest way back to headquarters through back alleys and out of anyone’s sight. 

He didn’t know whether to count his blessings or curse his luck when he saw Zack and Aerith sitting at the table with Sephiroth. The General seemed glad to have them there, but a closer look told Vincent that he was annoyed by the interruption. The dark-haired man quickly decided this was his chance to call it a night without leaving room for Sephiroth to follow him, at least not immediately. 

“Lt. Fair, Ms. Gainsborough,” he said with a smile as he reached the table. “Good evening.”

“Evening, Director!” Zack said, shaking Vincent’s hand vigorously.

“Good evening, Mr. Valentine,” Aerith said as she reached up and kissed Vincent’s cheek. She frowned as she sat down, eyeing him critically. “Forgive the indiscretion, Director, but are you feeling okay? You feel a bit warm.”

Eying Sephiroth’s half-consumed bottle of wine, Zack grinned and said, “Maybe a bit too much alcohol, Director?”

Sephiroth shot Zack a warning glare. “He doesn’t drink, Fair.” Looking at Vincent, he said, “You do look a bit high-coloured.”

Bless sweet, perceptive Aerith. Now all Vincent had to do was play things just right to be able to leave on his own. 

“Nothing to worry about,” he said, “just a bit of exhaustion, I’m afraid. I hate to cut our chat short, Sephiroth, but it would be better if I returned to headquarters to rest.”

“I’ll go with you,” Sephiroth said. “Just let me pay the check.”

“I got it,” Zack said. “We’ll keep the table.”

“It’s not necessary,” Vincent said, feeling panic rising up in his chest. “A little cool air will do me good on the way back and I’d hate for your night to end so early, Sephiroth.”

Just as the General was about to protest, Aerith placed her hand over his and smiled sweetly at him. “Stay, Seph. It’s been a while since the three of us had a chance to talk. Mr. Valentine will be fine on his own and he can call one of you if he feels worse before reaching headquarters.”

Vincent held his breath as Sephiroth looked between him and Aerith a few times before settling down on his seat again. “All right. But at least wait until Tifa wraps up the leftovers. Like you said, you can’t skip any more meals and it looks like they might make a decent lunch.” 

The gunman nodded and called Tifa to ask for the check and to have the leftovers wrapped up. When she returned, he tried to pay for half of the check but the General wouldn’t have that. 

“I invited you, so it’s my treat. Just… make it home safely and I’ll check on you tomorrow morning… Director.”

The disappointment in Sephiroth’s voice made Vincent’s stomach drop but he managed a weak smile. “Thank you, General. Have a good evening, everyone.”

As he left, he was sure Aerith looked at him with concern and just a bit of suspicion.

 


	3. Limit Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding out the creatures you play grudging host to are in heat is never fun. Being forced to let a not-so-mad-scientist poke you with needles and request all kinds of samples from you *and* the aforementioned creatures is even less amusing. It can always get worse, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know much about biology, but I always figured Chaos's explanation for Vincent's transformations was the closest to a scientific reasoning behind them. It's fiction, anyway, so don't sue me!
> 
> As usual, I own nothing but the ideas.

Vincent entered his apartment and locked up behind him before going to the kitchen and storing the leftovers on the fridge. He took a bottle of water and drank half of it in a single go, groaning in relief as the cold liquid helped ease his fevered state. Chaos, whom he’d taken out of mute on his way back to headquarters, insisted they didn’t have a fever but Vincent refused to think of it as being in heat. The idea was preposterous, particularly when taking into account the prospect of having Sephiroth as the target of his mental roommates’ rampaging hormones.

Pressing the cool bottle against his forehead and sighing deeply, Vincent made his way towards his bedroom. Too tired and agitated to even think about changing into his pyjamas, he just kicked his shoes off and fell heavily on his bed, draping an arm over his eyes while switching the bottle to his neck. 

_All right, then_ , he told Chaos. _Let’s hear everything you know about this._

_Like I said, it’s soon Galian’s mating season. It has a lot to do with what you said before about us not having physical bodies of our own. When you transform into us, we take over your body by replacing some of your DNA with ours, basically rebuilding it to suit the information in our cells. The fact that you have those cells is what allows the transformations to take place. Over the years you’ve learned to control them and, together, you and I have been able to keep Galian mostly dormant. But that only goes as far as his consciousness, such as it is. By controlling him, we’ve decelerated the rate at which his cells, and therefore his hormones, usually worked but there’s no way to control the intrinsic biological mechanisms within the cells._

_You’re telling me that it was bound to happen no matter what, that we only delayed the inevitable._

_Precisely._

_What about you, then? You said you’re nearing your mating season, too, but that it’s Galian’s fault?_

_I am a Weapon created by the Planet with a very specific purpose. I have no need or reason to mate, therefore I have no mating season. At the same time, however, I’m nothing more than a bunch of cells invading your body and a high-level consciousness sharing part of your headspace. Physically, I’m closer to Galian than to you, so he can affect me in more direct ways. That being the case, his chemistry has altered mine in order to bring his needs to the fore._

_So he’s using you to act on his impulses?_

_Yes. I suppose that, on some level, he knows you’ll never let him out to mate. He must also know that I wouldn’t intercede on his behalf, either. But if_ I’m _the one feeling the urge…_

_Then you’d have plenty of incentive to talk me into it._

_Precisely._

_For a base life form, he’s turned out to be a manipulative son of a bitch._

_Hn._

Vincent sighed and drank the rest of the by now barely cool water from the bottle before tossing it into the garbage can next to his bed. 

_What about Sephiroth, then? Why him?_

_Ah. Like I said, I am not entirely sure. All I know is that, throughout dinner, Galian got really restless. It actually started when you called Sephiroth to let him know you’d be late—it was like his voice woke Galian up. Then, on the way to the restaurant, he got increasingly frisky. That’s why your hands started getting warmer. The fact that Sephiroth showed interest in befriending you got him so excited that I almost lost control over him._

Vincent frowned and sat up on the bed, leaning against the headboard. _I didn’t feel any of that._

_I disconnected for a while so we wouldn’t interrupt. It was around the time you started feeling warmer, so that’s why you didn’t feel anything. Once I realised what it all meant, I stepped up to let you know what was going on._

_I see. But… I was feeling feverish_ before _I ran into Sephiroth on the elevator._

_I know. I was asleep then, and so was Galian—that’s why he didn’t react to Sephiroth then. What you were feeling was just the beginning of the symptoms._

Vincent nodded and took a moment to gather his thoughts for a moment when something else occurred to him. _Wait. Why does Galian want to mate with a male?_

Chaos took a moment to think about it. _I really don’t know. It makes no sense if we think about the core purpose of mating. Then again, I don’t think there are any female specimens of whatever species Galian is._

_I doubt he knows or even understands that,_ Vincent mused. He decided that trying to make sense of any of it without hard data or facts would get him nowhere so he switched to the practicalities of the issue. _Is there any way to stop the process?_

_I don’t think so, but perhaps you should talk it over with Professor Faremis._

_I’m sure that’ll go over well,_ Vincent said, clearly annoyed. _‘Hey, guess what? Galian is in heat and he gave it to Chaos, who in turn will give it to me. Want to know what the best part is? Galian’s got the hots for your adoptive son.’_

_You could just leave Sephiroth out of it,_ Chaos said, unable to contain his amusement at Vincent’s snarky comment.

_I will, if I have any say in it. I will not taint him by letting Hojo’s work get the best of me._

_Permission to speak freely without you threatening to rip me apart?_

_Granted. But thread lightly._

_While I admit that this situation is quite disgusting, I think you should reconsider his offer for friendship._

_Explain yourself before I decide to find out if ripping you apart is actually possible,_ Vincent said testily.

_I don’t know why you told him about the protomateria, but other than the Turks and the few higher ups that need to know, you’d never brought that up with anyone. You agreed to go out for dinner with him instead of scheduling a meeting during office hours to discuss work related affairs. You care about him and want to make sure he’s safe and has a happy life. Wouldn’t that be easier to do if you were actually a part of said life? I know you have little hope that we’ll find a way to fix the protomateria but whatever ends up happening in that regard, we still have a long way to go before it becomes a real problem. That’s a long time to be emotionally cut off from the world, Vincent._

The gunman took a deep breath and brought his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on his arms. 

_I know. But while I don’t allow guilt to render me useless, I haven’t found a way to completely let go. You know that, Chaos. And you know that what I told Sephiroth is true: every time I look at him I am reminded of my failures and shortcomings. It reminds me that, in spite of my best efforts, things can still go horribly wrong._

_Except he ended up remarkably well._

_Not thanks to me. Gast—_

_Gast was part of the original Jenova Project,_ Chaos interrupted. _He_ started _it all, Vincent. And when he realised he was wrong, he left instead of staying to set things right. Through his inaction he allowed Hojo the room he needed to experiment to his shrivelled heart’s content. Gast could have prevented things from reaching the point where you were forced to try to step in. He’s not a saint, Vincent, just like you’re not a sinner. If he found a way to turn his mistake around, at least partly, you can find a way to shed your guilt so you can truly look after Sephiroth._

_And you’re not just saying this because of Galian’s influence, right?_

Chaos laughed, causing a small smile to form on Vincent’s lips.

_Yeah, don’t even answer that,_ Vincent said. _All the same, I don’t think it’s a good idea to consider it now. At least not until we know if there’s any way to stop this stupid mating season thing or at least take Sephiroth out of the equation._

_As long as you agree to consider it._

_I do. Now, anything else you can tell me? Like when will it become more than hot flashes or how long will it last?_

_I’m sorry but I really don’t know. I’ll try to keep it under control for as long as I can but…_

Vincent sighed and switched off the lights before settling down to sleep. _I’ll talk to Gast about it tomorrow. Hopefully he’ll have a clue as to what to do._

_Hopefully. Good night, Vincent._

_Good night, Chaos._

 

* * *

 

 

The following morning, Vincent arrived to the Turks’ offices a quarter ’till eight. He stored the leftovers from the night before in the fridge they kept in the lounge area and was about to head to his office when he nearly ran into Cissnei. 

“Good morning, Director,” she greeted with a smile.

“Morning, Cissnei,” Vincent said. “Aren’t you a bit early today?”

The Turks’ third in command shrugged and followed Vincent into his office. “I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d come in early and work on some reports I couldn’t finish last night.”

Vincent nodded and offered her a seat while he turned his computer on. “Anything troubling you?”

“Just stressed out because of next month’s summit. It’s a logistics nightmare, Vincent.”

The gunman smirked as he logged into this account and waited for the system to finish loading up. 

“You’re telling me. Rufus, Reeve, everyone from R&D—including Ifalna and Aerith—, Professor Faremis and half a dozen people from the Science Department, Lazard and a representative from Soldier First Class, plus every major player in the private energy sector—including investors, researchers, and CEOs—, not to mention leaders from all around the world, all cooped up in Modeoheim with only us Turks and a few dozen Soldiers Second Class as protection. I can’t imagine anything going wrong.”

Cissnei sighed and rested her head on her fist. “Plus all the work we have to do anyway. When will the President authorise us to recruit more members?”

“After the summit,” Vincent said, skimming through the messages that arrived over night and early in the morning. “I hadn’t brought it up because I didn’t want any of you to worry about it, but since you asked… Just don’t tell the others yet.”

The auburn-haired woman perked up visibly. “That’s great. And yeah, don’t worry, I won’t say anything.” She paused a moment and then asked, “Who from Soldier is coming? I heard Genesis had to decline for some reason.”

Vincent nodded as he opened an email from Lazard. After skimming through it, he sighed. “Yes, Genesis will be staying here for personal reasons. Sephiroth is slated to replace him at the summit.”

“You don’t look too happy, Vincent,” Cissnei said, eying him carefully. “Is something wrong?”

_Just that being anywhere near Sephiroth makes me feel like someone doused me with mako,_ he thought. What he said was, “Nothing, really. It’s just that Sephiroth is Shinra’s poster boy for a lot of the things Rufus is trying to clean up—the war and mako research, mainly. I’m afraid that once his presence at the summit is confirmed, Avalanche will have more incentive to try something stupid.” 

Cissnei considered this for a moment and nodded. “I see your point. On the other hand, they might be too scared to try anything with the General there.”

“It’s a toss up,” Vincent mused. “Go ahead and double our surveillance on Avalanche. I want to know what their reaction to the summit’s announcement will be. Feel free to pull Elena from whatever she’s doing to help you if you need her. I’ll put in a request with Lazard to borrow Kunsel, since he went on that recon mission with Rude a few months ago.”

“Sure. When will the announcement of the summit and its attendees take place?”

“This afternoon. Apparently they were just waiting to hear from Lazard to start with the publicity.”

Cissnei nodded and stood up. “I’ll get started on that right away.” She was about to leave when she turned to Vincent again. “Did you have breakfast, Director?”

Vincent smiled and nodded. “A bowl of fruit with yoghurt, granola, and honey. Plus a glass of grapefruit juice. I’ve got granola bars and a chocolate bar in my jacket’s pocket _and_ I brought lunch.”

Cissnei smiled. “That’s good to hear. I’ll stop by at lunchtime to make sure you don’t forget to eat.”

“Thank you, Cissnei.”

She nodded and left Vincent’s office. As soon as the door closed behind her, he sighed and slumped on his chair. 

_You can always make sure to be tied up in events Sephiroth won’t be scheduled to appear,_ Chaos offered.

Vincent nodded, not bothering to answer. He wrote an email to Lazard to request Kunsel’s help as he had told Cissnei he would and then he answered a few other messages that were marked as urgent. About an hour later, he decided to call Professor Gast to request an emergency appointment but was interrupted when his cellphone rang. He answered without checking the caller ID and immediately regretted it.

_“Good morning, Director,”_ came Sephiroth’s voice from the other side.

The gunman cringed as he felt Chaos hastily isolate himself and Galian from Vincent; it felt like brain freeze and it took him a few seconds to recover, giving Sephiroth plenty of time to become concerned.

_“Director? Is everything all right?”_

“Yes, fine,” Vincent said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Good morning, General. I apologise about last night—I really didn’t mean to leave so abruptly.”

_“Don’t worry about it. I apologise if anything I said contributed to your indisposition.”_

“Nonsense. It’s all my messed up body’s fault.”

_“Speaking of which, how are you feeling this morning?”_

“Better, but I’ve no expectation of if staying that way, given all the work that still needs to be done regarding the summit.”

_“I have a meeting with Lazard later today to get up to speed with it. Hopefully I’ll be of some help to all of you after that.”_

“Sounds good,” Vincent said. 

There was a moment’s hesitation before Sephiroth said, _“My sister is concerned about you, Vincent. She said you seemed preoccupied last night. I know what you said about the prospect of friends, but if there’s anything I can do to help, and I don’t mean just work, you can trust me.”_

Vincent felt something cold grip his chest at Sephiroth’s words, followed by a warm tingling in his hands. Realising the latter part of his reaction must have come from Galian, the gunman felt dirty and sick to his stomach. Taking a deep breath, he tried his best to come up with a neutral answer.

“Thank your sister for her concern, General. I assure you everything is fine and it’s just the logistics for the summit’s security that keep me slightly on edge. However, thank you for your offer—I will keep it under consideration.”

_“I will be sure to let her know. You must have a lot of work to do, Director, so I won’t take any more of your time. Have a nice day.”_

Once again, Vincent could hear the disappointment in Sephiroth’s voice and it made him regret so many things that he seriously considered going back to bed and losing himself in a deep sleep in order to forget them all at least for a little while.

“Thank you for your call, General. Have a good day.”

The call ended and Vincent tossed his cellphone on the desk so hard that it slid all across the surface and fell on the floor on the other side. Burying his face in his hands, he waited for Chaos to come back in order to have someone to talk to. 

It took about five minutes but Vincent finally felt a familiar pressure on his ears that signalled Chaos’s return. With it came a wave of heat that spread all across him and made him feel even more feverish than the day before. 

_Sorry about that,_ Chaos said. _There’s nothing I can do to stop this particular side effect._

_I could feel you disconnecting, Chaos, but my hands still got warm when Sephiroth offered to help me. That was Galian, wasn’t it?_

Chaos sighed and he sounded cross. _Yes. His reaction was much more intense, and you should be glad it didn’t come through completely. It threw me for a loop and it took me a while to get him under control. I don’t think you can delay that talk with Gast any longer, Vincent._

Nodding, Vincent put his computer to sleep, gathered his phone and his PDA, and told Cissnei he’d be at Gast’s office, leaving her in charge while Tseng arrived. 

 

* * *

 

“Professor Faremis will be here shortly, Director Valentine,” said Gast’s assistant.

“Thank you, Toru,” Vincent said with a smile before returning to his PDA.

He had arrived at Gast’s office about half an hour ago and the Professor’s assistant had informed him that he wasn’t scheduled to arrive until noon. Not willing to wait, Vincent asked the young man to call Gast and tell him that the Head of the Turks was in to see him and that it was an emergency. Knowing that Vincent was one of the Professor’s priorities, Toru agreed and contacted Gast, who promised to finish up his meeting with Director Tuesti as soon as possible. Apparently, he had just called to let his assistant and Vincent know that he was on his way.

_Are you going to mention Sephiroth’s role in all of this?_ Chaos asked.

Vincent thought about it for a moment as he made some notes on Rude’s report about Palmer’s attempts at selling blueprints of a rocket prototype to a rival company. Really, the man had no brains and no sense of secrecy—he’d tried to close the deal at Junon’s newest karaoke bar in the middle of the day. Not at any karaoke bar, either, but the one right next to the Turks’ hangout. He was aware that killing Palmer would be counterproductive, but Vincent felt that the world could do without certain people, and the former Head of Shinra’s Space Program was one of them. The amount of stupid in the Planet would be greatly reduced, at the very least.

_I don’t see a way around it,_ he eventually answered. _He’s going to ask about symptoms, how and when they manifest. If we want a solution to the problem, I can’t very well play dumb with key information._

_It’s going to be an interesting conversation, to put it mildly_.

_Hn._

The door to the office opened and in came a short man with brown hair peppered with silver, and big, round glasses. He wore a checkered blue-and-grey shirt and dark slacks; an immaculate white lab coat bearing the name _Faremis_ over the left breast pocket was carefully draped over his left arm while he carried a suitcase on his right hand. There was a serious expression on his face but he smiled warmly as soon as he saw Vincent sitting next to his assistant’s desk.

“Vincent, sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, switching his suitcase to his left hand in order to shake Vincent’s.

“Don’t worry, Professor—I came in here without an appointment, after all.”

“Emergencies can’t be scheduled, Vincent. Why don’t you wait for me in my office? I’ll be with you as soon as I check my schedule with Toru.”

Vincent nodded and went into Gast’s office. He tried to come up with a way to explain his current situation without incurring in the other man’s anger but gave up almost immediately. If Gast was going to be angry at him over something he couldn’t control, then he’d be better off trying to figure things out on his own. 

“That’s done,” Gast said as he came in. “Now, what’s going on, Vincent? You’ve somehow managed to worry both of my children and that makes _me_ worry.”

The gunman shook his head slowly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Of course they told you. You raised them well, Professor.”

“I like to think so, but it was mostly my wife’s doing, I believe. Now, no more dancing around the subject. What’s the matter?”

Vincent sighed and jumped right into it. 

“Galian is nearing his mating season. Chaos’s influence over him is slowing down the process but it’s not enough to stop it. I’ve been having hot flashes ever since yesterday and…” 

He stopped, eying the Professor carefully. Noting that the other man was paying him close attention and seemed interested but not disgusted, he decided to just get it over with. 

“The symptoms get worse when Sephiroth is close by. Or when I hear his voice. Even when Chaos completely isolates himself and Galian from me when I’m talking to the General on the phone, I can still… _feel_ Galian’s reaction. 

“To make matters worse, Galian has somehow managed to affect Chaos. Which means that Chaos will also go into mating season even though he doesn’t even _have_ one. According to him, when he’s no longer able to contain his or Galian’s impulses, Sephiroth will be the focus of their… attention, so to speak. Except, if I understand this correctly, it’s me that’s going to end up acting out on it.”

The gunman finished talking and took a deep breath, waiting for the Professor’s outrage to hit him full on. 

Except it never did.

Gast just sat behind his desk, taking notes by hand while checking something on his computer. Vincent waited in tense silence for a few minutes, wondering what Gast was thinking. 

He found himself looking at a family picture where Gast, Ifalna, Aerith, and Sephiroth posed in front of their house in Sector Two. They all looked relaxed and happy. None of them wore uniforms or lab coats, and a patch of white and yellow lilies behind them brightened the whole picture. Vincent couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips as he remembered Chaos’s nickname for Aerith: _flower girl_. The Weapon once told the gunman that Aerith always smelled like flowers to him. If Vincent concentrated, he could also smell the delicate fragrance of flowers about the young woman. She had once given him a vase with lilies from her garden, saying he looked like he could use some cheering up. It was as if she’d been able to sense the gloom that still clung to him in spite of his best efforts to let the past go. 

He was reminded of her concern the night before and wondered just how much she had been able to sense in him. She was half Cetra, after all, which meant she was far more attuned to the subtler aspects of life than regular people. He knew both she and Ifalna could sense Chaos, given that all three of them were what the Cetra referred to as ‘Planet Protectors’. By extension, they were also aware of Galian, which probably meant that when Aerith commented about Vincent’s health she must’ve felt some of Galian’s rampant desires.

_That’s rather off-putting,_ Chaos mused.

_I don’t think I can ever look her straight in the eye again,_ Vincent added. 

When the Professor finally spoke, Vincent took a deep breath and let go of his musings. He was temporarily confused when Gast went straight to the technicalities of the issue without a trace of personal investment.

“Has Chaos—or Galian—said why Sephiroth causes such a reaction with them?”

“Uh… No. I mean, Galian doesn’t say much of anything to me anymore, and Chaos can’t make sense of what’s going on beyond basic biology. He just knows that Galian’s been reacting to Sephiroth since yesterday.”

“Just yesterday?”

“Yes. Um, we really hadn’t talked much before then.”

Gast looked up from his notes and looked at Vincent with curiosity. “He’s mentioned that a few times, yes. Why is that, Vincent?”

This was far more familiar territory and allowed Vincent a chance to regroup after Gast’s reaction—or lack thereof, rather.

“Why haven’t I talked to the son of the woman I loved and failed to stop from becoming a human guinea pig along with said son?”

Gast removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Vincent, are you still—?”

“This has nothing to do with my feelings for Lucrecia which, by the way, no longer exist. This has to do with the fact that I failed to protect him before he was born and seeing him is a reminder of that failure.” 

He paused to take a few calming breaths—patiently coached by Chaos—to stop himself from going into a repetitive tirade. 

“If it makes you feel any better, Professor, Chaos has already pointed out all the reasons why my reluctance to talk to your son is moot. However, given the fact that both Galian and Chaos are apparently attracted to Sephiroth, I think that trying to be friends with him is going to have to wait.”

Gast put his glasses back on and nodded once. “All right. Is there anything else you can tell me about this situation, then?”

Vincent shook his head. “Only that Chaos’s best is probably not going to cut it anymore in the near future. He doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be able to keep Galian under control or what exactly will happen when things come to a head. However, I don’t think we have much time, given how fast things have progressed so far.”

The Professor took note of that and checked some more files on his computer. After a few minutes, he looked at Vincent with his most serious expression.

“As far as I can see, there is very little information about Galian’s origins to be found in Hojo’s notes. We haven’t taken any samples directly from Galian, either, so it’s going to be a bit difficult to determine what the scope of the situation is. I’m afraid we’ll need to conduct more tests, Vincent.”

The Turk sighed and slumped back on his chair, rubbing his eyes. “I figured as much. Is there any way to get them done today? The summit—”

“Of course,” Gast said. “I understand how important the security plans for the summit are and I wouldn’t want to keep you away from work longer than necessary. If you are feeling up to it, I will have Toru clear my schedule for the rest of the day and we’ll get right to it.”

“Let me call Tseng and Cissnei to let them know,” Vincent agreed.

 

* * *

 

At lunchtime, Tseng left his desk and went to the lounge room to get his bento box from the lockers. On his way there, he peeked into Vincent’s office and was surprised to find it empty still. Frowning, he reached for his cellphone and dialled the Director’s number. It rang a few times before someone other than Vincent picked up.

_“Director Valentine’s phone, Toru Ito speaking.”_

Tseng knew Toru was Faremis’s assistant. If he was answering Vincent’s phone, then the Head Turk was still caught up in the Science Department, something Tseng knew his superior hated with a passion.

“Good afternoon, Toru. This is Tseng speaking. I was just checking up on Vincent.”

_“Good afternoon, Tseng. I’m afraid Director Valentine is still undergoing some tests with Professor Faremis and cannot answer the phone at this time. I can give him a message as soon as he’s free, if you like.”_

“I see. There’s nothing pressing now so there’s no need for any messages, thank you. But, if you’d be so kind as to ask him to let us know when he’s done with the tests, I’d appreciate that.”

_“Not a problem. Have a good day, Tseng.”_

“You, too.”

Tseng disconnected the call and stared at his phone for a moment. It worried him that Vincent had gone to see Gast without a previous appointment and that it had led to emergency tests. Given his background, Vincent had to undergo regular check-ups and blood tests, usually every quarter. He would always let him and Cissnei know when his appointments were due with one or two days’ anticipation, and if he was feeling poorly before his check-up was due, he’d also tell them about it. Vincent had made it a point not to hide anything from his fellow Turks since the day he took the position of Director, something everyone appreciated. It had been one of the things that earned him their trust almost right away, along with the fact that he saved them from Heidegger’s grasp. 

He went and got his food from the fridge and sat at a small table in the lounge. He thought about what Cissnei told him that morning, that Vincent had worked for about an hour and then told her he would go see Professor Faremis. She didn’t say anything about his physical appearance or his mood, which meant she didn’t notice anything wrong with Vincent. That would mean that he suddenly felt ill enough to go to see Faremis without an appointment. That was worrisome in and of itself, but what kind of tests could take over four hours?

His bento box laid unopened in front of him when Cissnei, Elena, and Kunsel walked into the lounge room, each carrying a take-out bag from Seventh Heaven. They all greeted him and sat at the table with him. 

“I noticed Vincent’s not in his office,” Cissnei said. “Has he come back from Gast’s office yet?”

Tseng shook his head, finally opening his bento box. “I just called his cellphone. Faremis’s assistant picked up and said he’s still going through some tests.”

“Tests?” Elena asked, stopping with her fork halfway to her mouth. “I thought his next physical wasn’t until a week before the summit.”

“It is,” Cissnei said, frowning. “He didn’t seem particularly off this morning.”

“But he seemed off, somehow?” Tseng asked.

“We were talking about the summit and he seemed preoccupied when Lazard confirmed that Sephiroth will be replacing Genesis as rep for Soldier. He was concerned that the General’s presence at the summit would encourage Avalanche to try something so he asked me to increase surveillance on them along with Elena and Kunsel. He didn’t say anything else and, at the time, I just thought that the summit’s planning was really starting to get to him. I didn’t think it was enough for him to go see Professor Faremis all of a sudden.”

“I ran into the General and the Director last night,” Kunsel added slowly. “They were on their way to Seventh Heaven and the Director looked fine. But then this morning Zack said that he and Aerith ran into them at the restaurant and the Director left early. According to Zack, Aerith noticed Director Valentine was warmer than normal but he said he was just tired.”

Tseng sighed and looked at his watch. It was half past two and they hadn’t heard from Vincent yet. None of them were the prying kind but if their leader was in any kind of trouble they had the right to know, not to mention the responsibility to help out in any way they could. He decided to go to Gast’s office after lunch to try to get more information, if only to keep the team at ease. 

“He won’t like you snooping around,” Cissnei said with a small smile, noticing Tseng’s resolute stare.

The Wutain looked at her with a playful smirk and shrugged. “It’s not like he can take disciplinary action against me.”

“No, but he might make sure you get stuck with all the boring missions when you’re not shadowing Rufus,” Elena cut in.

“It’s a small price to pay to make sure our boss is all right,” Tseng replied.

Once it was decided that Tseng would look into the matter of Vincent’s disappearance, talk moved to other areas, mainly Avalanche and the summit. As the three Turks chatted lively, Kunsel refrained from actively participating in the conversation and preferred to watch the interactions of his temporary workmates. By the end of lunch, he concluded that the perception most of the company had about the Turks was rather accurate: they were a pack, tightly bound by loyalty and faithful mostly to each other rather than Shinra itself. That’s not to say that they held their personal goals above the company’s, just that they had simply formed a deep attachment towards the small group of people they considered their own. 

Whether that was healthy or not it wasn’t Kunsel’s place to judge. He supposed, though, that it was comforting for the Turks, given that all of them were outcasts in one way or another. Cissnei, Reno, and Rude were all orphans; Elena had an older sister but they weren’t in speaking terms; Tseng was a Wutain expatriate that fled his country just before the conflict with Shinra started, leaving him in a state of disgrace; and Vincent… well, he was all kinds of out of place. It wasn’t so surprising, then, that these six people had developed such deep bonds of camaraderie and loyalty, bonds that might seem strange to outsiders but made perfect sense to them. 

Still, the fact that Cissnei knew what Tseng was planning to do before he even said anything was a bit disconcerting. 

“Kunsel?”

Tseng’s voice brought him out of his analysis.

“Yes, Tseng?”

“Not a word of this to anyone outside the Turks, if you will. The Director would not appreciate it.”

Kunsel nodded firmly. “I understand.”

“Particularly to Heidegger and Scarlet,” Cissnei added.

“Of course.”

“Or the General,” Elena said. 

“Certainly.”

The three Turks nodded and went back to whatever they were talking about. Kunsel shook his head slowly and returned to his lunch. The term _pack mentality_ kept coming up during the rest of his assignment with the Turks.

 

* * *

 

Vincent tried not to drift into unconsciousness as Professor Faremis injected a mix of tranquillisers and suppressants into his left arm. He had to be aware long enough to allow Chaos control of his body so that the Weapon could summon Galian and Professor Faremis could get the samples he needed. The drugs were meant to keep Galian knocked out during the procedures and had to be injected while Vincent was still himself in order for the process to go down as smoothly as possible. 

Vincent had already gone through a full physical examination and a psychological evaluation plus tests to determine his stress levels; blood samples of him and Chaos had already been extracted, as well, in addition to some tissue samples. The most embarrassing part had been providing semen samples—his and Chaos’s. Professor Faremis mentioned the need to get such a sample from Galian, too, and Vincent had stopped the man before he could get into specifics of just _how_ he was going to manage that. 

“All done, Vincent,” Gast said. “If you could come with me to the next room then we can begin the procedure.”

Vincent grunted in acknowledgement, not daring to nod for fear of falling over. He had to ask Chaos for assistance in getting to the specially prepared room where the next part of the tests would begin. 

The room was slightly bigger than an ordinary examination room, with a reinforced steel table in the middle furnished with magnetic straps for the head, torso, wrists, legs, and ankles, all big enough to fit Galian’s body. There were several trays in a cart by the table containing needles and syringes as well as many other surgical implements. Looking at them brought flashes of memory to Vincent and he felt his resolve waver. For a moment, he forgot what he was there for and panic surged within him. He tried to leave the room but came face to face with Professor Faremis and two orderlies that cut off his escape. 

“Out of my way,” Vincent said. His voice was shaky and his eyes darted around looking for alternate escape routes.

“Vincent, you need to focus,” Gast said. “Remember, you’re here just for some tests. No one is going to harm you.”

_Let me,_ Chaos half-offered and half-ordered. _You know I’ll keep you safe._

_All right,_ Vincent said.

He relinquished control of his body to Chaos, slipping into a warm, comfortable corner of his mind where he allowed himself to drift into slumber. In the meantime, Chaos slipped forward without transforming entirely, the only noticeable change being the colour of Vincent’s eyes—they were now a warm gold. 

“Chaos?” asked Professor Faremis tentatively.

“Yes,” came Chaos’s response. He was using Vincent’s voice but there was an ethereal rumble behind it. “Vincent is in no condition to keep going.”

“Is he all right?” the Professor asked.

“For the most part, but you know how much he loathes laboratories and everything that comes with them. The drugs were beginning to muddle his senses and he was about to get caught in memories best left alone.”

“I see. How are you holding up, then?”

“I’m fine. I would like to get this over with as soon as possible, though, so tell me what to do.”

Gast nodded and instructed Chaos to remove Vincent’s clothes and change into a specially designed robe that would hopefully not tear when Chaos called Galian out. Chaos followed the Professor’s instructions quickly and silently, focusing on the restraints he’d placed on Galian over the years. He would have to loosen them enough to allow the creature to take over Vincent’s body while keeping them just tight enough to keep him under control while the drugs in Vincent’s system flooded Galian’s. 

Once Chaos was on the table, the orderlies engaged the magnetic restraints—they were loose on Vincent’s body but they would fit Galian just fine. As soon as everything was in place, the orderlies left the room, leaving Gast alone with Chaos. 

“Are you sure you don’t want some muscle here with you?” Chaos asked with a grin.

The Professor gave him a knowing look that wasn’t entirely serious. “You know Vincent doesn’t like peeping Toms, Chaos.”

“I know. But he’d like it even less if you got yourself killed. It would be mightily inconvenient to have to find a new doctor this late in the game.”

“Your concern touches me,” Gast said with a snicker. “Don’t worry about me—I have enough tranquillisers here to knock Galian out ten times over. Now, why don’t you let him out and so we can call it a day and allow Vincent some peace?”

“I like the sound of that,” Chaos said.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and released it slowly. He repeated the action a few times until he was ready to let Galian loose. 

Even if it wasn’t his body, whenever Chaos took over all of Vincent’s nerve endings became his, so the pain was real for him. He hoped that Vincent was asleep deep enough within his own mind that he wouldn’t feel the excruciating ache of rearranging bones and stretching skin. As the gunman’s body reorganised itself to give way to Galian, Chaos fought to keep the beast from gaining control over his brain. It felt like an eternity but in reality less than a minute passed by before Galian lay sprawled across the table, shackled by the magnetic restraints all over his body. The beast fought against them for a few seconds before the drug cocktail circulating in the bloodstream that he shared with Vincent took effect and Galian was unconscious on the table.

Gast approached the violet-and-red creature carefully and prodded it with a tongue depressor. When the only reaction that earned him was a puff of a snore, he nodded and went to work as quickly as he could. 

 

* * *

 

Tseng was sitting in the reception area of Professor Faremis’s offices, working on his PDA much like Vincent had been doing earlier that day. He had arrived about ten minutes ago and been promptly informed by Toru that Vincent was in the middle of the last procedure of the day and he would be cleared to go home in an hour, at the most. Tseng then decided to wait in case Vincent needed assistance getting back to his apartment—it wouldn’t be the first time it happened and he knew his superior would appreciate having one of his own escort him rather than anyone from the Science Department. After all, Vincent had more reason than most to despise personnel in lab coats.

When the door to the offices opened, Tseng didn’t even look up from the screen on his hand. He kept working until a shadow loomed over him and he was forced to tear his eyes away from a schematic of the Modeo Hot Baths. Standing in front of him was Sephiroth, looking mischievously at him with his green eyes. Tseng couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his mouth as he stood up to greet the General.

“Hello, Sephiroth,” he said, shaking hands with the other man.

“Hello, Tseng. What brings you here today?”

The Turk shrugged and sat down again. Given how reserved Vincent was when it came to his health, he didn’t want to give too much away to the General. Even if they were friends, he knew about Vincent’s connection to Sephiroth’s early life, and he knew the older man wanted to keep as much distance as possible between himself and the General. Although Tseng didn’t quite understand Vincent’s motives, he wasn’t one to question them or go against his wishes. 

“Just waiting for Vincent,” he said eventually. 

Sephiroth, who was now sitting next to Tseng, frowned. “Is he—?”

His question was cut short by a howl that came from somewhere in the exam rooms. 

Sephiroth and Tseng were on their feet in a second, Tseng’s hand on his sidearm while Sephiroth summoned Masamune. Toru, to his credit, didn’t run for the door but stayed put even when a second and third howl followed, each longer and louder than the rest. Then the phone on Toru’s desk rang and the young man answered immediately. He listened intently and after a shaky ‘yes, sir!’, he turned to the two men standing at the ready in front of him.

“Tseng, that was Professor Faremis. He wants you in Exam Room 13 ASAP. He wants you to stay here, General.”

Tseng nodded and ran into the corridor that led to the examination rooms. Sephiroth was about to protest and demand an explanation as to why he had to stay behind when another howl interrupted him. Acting on instinct, he went after Tseng.

Exam Room 13 was the last one on the left. Two orderlies lay in the corridor just outside the exam room, one of them unconscious and with a gash on his right arm, the other one awake and blabbering with a split eyebrow and a broken nose. He tried to stop Sephiroth and Tseng from entering the room but they were not paying the man any attention. 

Tseng kicked the door open, gun at the ready, while Sephiroth remained behind him, Masamune poised over his left shoulder. The sight that greeted them troubled the Turk greatly while it disconcerted the General. 

Galian huddled in a corner, apparently struggling to stay awake while at the same time refusing to relinquish his hold on Vincent’s body to Chaos. The furry creature kept flickering between its huge, violet form and Chaos’s equally large but leaner shape. Galian would howl intermittently while Chaos said nothing, his features twisted into a grimace of concentration and effort whenever he managed to regain control of Vincent’s body. 

Through this, Professor Faremis stood next to the door, tranquilliser gun at the ready while he held on to at least six darts filled with a faintly glowing blue liquid in his free hand. As soon as the door opened, he turned to Tseng and Sephiroth. Frowning, he went to his son and tried to push him out of the room.

“You have to leave, Sephiroth. And you need to lower your gun, Tseng. You know you won’t need it.”

Tseng obeyed immediately but Sephiroth refused to leave. 

“Why do you want me to leave?” Sephiroth asked, lowering Masamune. “That thing—”

“That _thing_ is Director Valentine,” Tseng said tersely. 

Sephiroth looked sharply at Tseng and then turned his gaze towards the shifting creature in the corner. He’d never seen any of Vincent’s creatures and there hadn’t been any pictures in the files he had access to. From the descriptions, however, he deduced the behemoth-like creature was Galian Beast and the winged one had to be Chaos. Which meant Vincent was somewhere in there, unable to regain control of his own body. 

“What happened?” he asked. 

Realising Sephiroth wouldn’t leave, Gast decided to answer his son’s question and hoped nothing terrible would come from his presence in the room.

“I’m not entirely sure,” he was addressing the other two men in the room but kept an eye on Galian. “I was done taking samples from Galian when he woke up from the deep drug-induced sleep we had him on. He managed to break the magnetic restraints and attack the orderlies before I could hit him with the tranquillisers.”

“How many?” Tseng asked, eying Galian carefully. The creature was still fighting Chaos’s commands but seemed to be getting tired.

“Four, but I really don’t want to use a fifth. It would weaken Galian but it might also impair Chaos and draw out the process.”

“Are the samples secured?” Tseng asked. 

“Is that really what worries you?” Sephiroth asked, voice laced with disbelief.

Tseng looked at him evenly. “Whatever the Director is going through must be serious enough for him to agree to this whole procedure. If the samples are lost, he will have to go through it again. I would really prefer to spare him that.”

“The samples are fine,” Gast answered. “I called you here to help me subdue Galian if need be and to help me with Chaos—or Vincent—once Galian steps back.”

Just then, Galian howled louder and longer than before, lunging at the three men standing near the door. Tseng pulled Gast out of the way, leaving Sephiroth wide open for the feral creature. He was about to raise Masamune when a female shrill wail—Jenova’s—echoed inside his head; it was so loud and sudden that it caused him to stagger back, dropping his sword in the process. He managed to raise his arms in a defensive stance but the impact he expected never came as Galian stopped abruptly, falling to the floor and shrinking back into Chaos’s shape. The Weapon growled in pain and exhaustion, curling into a foetal position and covering his body with his wings. 

Sephiroth shook his head to clear the remnants of pain from it and went to pick up his sword, keeping a wary eye on the quivering creature in front of him.

“Leave him alone, Sephiroth!” Gast commanded from underneath Tseng. 

Sephiroth froze on his tracks and, with a flick of his wrist, Masamune vanished into thin air. He took a step back, staring intently at Chaos. He could still hear Jenova muttering somewhere in the back of his head but her voice was quickly fading away. It had been a long time since he’d heard her and he had to wonder if Vincent’s creatures had anything to do with her reappearance. 

“Get him _out_ of here,” Chaos gritted out. 

Tseng blinked, not knowing what Chaos meant, but Gast nodded and pushed himself out of the Turk’s protective hold and looked at his son with fierce determination. “You need to leave, Sephiroth.”

The General looked at his father, bewildered. “What? I’m not leaving you two alone with—”

“ _Shut_ ** _up_** _and_ ** _leave_** _, boy_. Get off this floor altogether.”

Although Chaos’s voice brokered no argument, Sephiroth stood his ground. “Why on Gaia would I do that?”

“Because if you don’t,” Chaos said, his voice shaking with strain and something decidedly dangerous, “I’m going to do things to you that will make you _long_ for death. Now, **_GO_**.”

“Sephiroth, don’t be a stubborn ass and do as he says!” Tseng pleaded.

Even though he didn’t understand what was going on and he felt deeply insulted by Chaos, not to mention increasingly suspicious of his possible connection to Jenova, Sephiroth relented and left without another word. 

It was several minutes before Chaos exhaled shakily and collapsed on the floor, shuddering and panting for breath. He swallowed thickly before half turning towards Tseng and Gast. 

“If you’re quite done, Professor, I’m going to let Vincent back now. If you can make sure he doesn’t wake up in the medical wing I’m sure he would greatly appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Gast said with a shaky sigh. “Go ahead.”

Without a word, Chaos stepped back and allowed Vincent control of his body again. The gunman was still unconscious, however, and remained slumped on the floor. Gast immediately rushed to his side to check his pulse and let out a relieved sigh when he found it was perfectly normal. 

“Where are his clothes?” Tseng asked. 

“In the top drawer of that cabinet over there,” the Professor said. 

Together, they redressed Vincent. Tseng had to take a deep breath to quell the homicidal feeling that tried to take over him every time he happened to see Vincent without a shirt. The scars on the man’s upper body spoke of unbearable torture and pain. The ragged Y of an autopsy scar and the unmistakeable pucker of a gunshot wound right over the gunman’s heart, along with the exit wound on his back and the twin slits on his shoulder blades were Chaos’s wings sprouted from, were the most dramatic and noticeable ones, but it was the array of smaller cuts above vital organs that got Tseng gritting his teeth and wishing Hojo hadn’t died in that bombing just so he could tear the bastard apart bit by bit. It nauseated Tseng to think that most of what Hojo did was sanctioned by the company he worked for so he tried not to dwell on it too much. Instead, he focused on redressing Vincent and setting him on the examination table before calling Reno and Rude to help him get Vincent to his apartment. 

While he waited, Gast had security take the two injured orderlies to the medical wing and he gathered all of Vincent’s samples in a password protected briefcase. 

“When will the test results be ready?” Tseng asked. 

“I’ll make this my top priority so they should be done within forty-eight hours. I’ll work over the weekend if I need to,” Gast said. 

He looked at Vincent’s sleeping form and then at Tseng. His brown eyes had the same intensity in them as when he ordered Sephiroth to leave. 

“I’m sure he’ll want to go back to work as soon as he wakes up but he can’t. And he can’t be around Sephiroth, either. I’ll talk to Rufus and Lazard about this in order to figure out what to do about the summit.”

Tseng nodded slowly. He didn’t want to ask too many questions, knowing Vincent would relay whatever he deemed important enough to him and the others in due time, but there was something troubling him.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea for him to remain in his apartment? It’s on the same building as Sephiroth’s and Chaos wanted him off the floor entirely.”

“It will be fine. I’ll have Sephiroth stay with us in Sector Two while we figure everything out.”

Reno and Rude arrived then. As soon as they saw Vincent passed out on the examination table and took stock of the damage done to the room, both Turks shot an alarmed look at Tseng.

“What the fuck happened here, yo?”

“Mind your language, young man,” Gast said, only half serious.

“Uh, sorry, Professor,” Reno said, scratching the back of his head. “But, I mean…”

Tseng shook his head. “Vincent came in for some tests and it appears that he lost control of Galian momentarily. There were no casualties and the Director is just sleeping. That’s all we need to know at the moment.”

Looking at each other briefly, both Turks nodded and awaited instructions.

“We need to get him to his apartment,” Tseng said. “I’ll need one of you to stay with him until he wakes up to make sure he doesn’t try to downplay this and go back to work right away.”

“I’ll do it,” Reno offered. “I’m the only one not working on the summit planning, anyway.”

“Good. Not a word to anyone outside the Turks, you hear? Professor Gast will handle the rest of the departments. As far as we’re concerned, the Director is taking an indefinite medical leave, leaving me and Cissnei in charge.”

“You got it,” Reno said.

“Understood,” Rude added.

“Right. Let’s get him to his apartment, then.”

 

 


	4. Cell-Deep Connections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The General finds out that his connection to the Director of the Turks runs deeper than anyone imagined. Dealing with this won’t come easy to a man that can hardly understand his own emotions, let alone those of the man who’s been avoiding him for the last four years. Luckily, Sephiroth has a sister that can talk to the Planet and a friend who knows Loveless backwards and forwards. That ought to help… right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth's point of view. 
> 
> This chapter gave me hell. I tried to rein it in but it did as it pleased. Hopefully the General didn't come out too OOC. But I like his interactions with Genesis and Angeal, and with Aerith. 
> 
> Standard disclaimer. You know the drill.

Sephiroth entered his room in a flurry of leather and silver hair, mind racing as he struggled to recall every single interaction of his with Vincent Valentine in the four years since the man had returned from Nibelheim. Specifically, he was trying to remember if Jenova had ever reacted to the other man’s presence before Galian came at him earlier at the labs. 

The first time they had seen each other was during the meeting where Soldier had been informed that Vincent would rejoin Shinra as Head Turk. The four Soldiers First Class had been there, as well as Sephiroth’s father, Rufus, Lazard, and Cloud. Other than introducing himself and stating his desire to forge an amicable relationship between his department and Soldier, Vincent didn’t say much. He just sat there while Professor Faremis explained Vincent’s condition in broad strokes and Cloud vouched for the man’s strength and control over the creatures that took up residence in his body. 

At the time, it had seemed a little odd to Sephiroth that Cloud had been at that meeting at all, even taking into account how close he was to Zack. His account of Vincent’s character struck him as unnecessary and out of place, making it even harder for him to understand why he had been allowed to sit at the meeting at all. He asked Lazard about it afterwards and the Director of Soldier explained to him that Cloud had personal ties to Vincent given that the Turk had meet the Second’s mother during his last assignment. Besides, it had been the blond who found the gunman in the basement of the Shinra Mansion, and both he and Kunsel had witnessed first hand the raw power of Galian when it managed to slip free of Vincent’s control. Because of that, Cloud was concerned that Soldier might not approve of the gunman’s return to the company if they deemed him dangerous, so he asked Lazard for a chance to speak in Vincent’s favour. Not seeing the harm in it and thinking it would help Vincent’s morale, the Director agreed. 

Trying to forget the fact that he felt irrationally jealous of the young blond’s connection to the gunman, Sephiroth focused on his mental state at the meeting. He remembered being curious about Valentine, having read the reports regarding his mission as security for the Science Department detail stationed at Nibelheim during the Jenova Project’s early stages, but that was about it. Jenova had been mostly silent for some years at that point and, although he could still sometimes hear her whispering in the back of his mind, he could ignore her without difficulty. He hadn’t heard her once during that meeting, nor during any subsequent meetings that involved the new Head Turk. 

It was, in fact, the opposite—whenever he was close to Vincent, his mind felt clearer and freer than at any other moment. The only exception, other than his earlier encounter with Galian, had been during the previous night, when Vincent’s eyes flashed gold right after he excused himself and rushed to the restrooms. During that fraction of a second, Sephiroth had felt something in the coldest corner of his mind stir with fear and resentment. It was gone as soon as it came, and its disappearance coincided with the Turk’s abrupt departure. 

And then there was the incident at the labs. Jenova had begun to stir as soon as he heard Galian’s first howl, although at the time he was rather preoccupied with finding out where the howl was coming from so he easily ignored the shrill voice fluttering about inside his head. Seeing Galian rapidly shifting between his own form and Chaos’s provided yet another distraction, and it wasn’t until Jenova went into full hysterics that he was forced to acknowledge her presence. There was no doubt in Sephiroth’s mind that something about Galian greatly disturbed the alien presence in his body. At the same time, he was certain that something about Chaos almost completely neutralised Jenova, as she had gradually stepped back after his appearance. He could clearly recall her frustration but it was her fear that stood out the most.

He went into his studio and powered up his computer, intent on reviewing everything he could find on the creatures living within Vincent. He knew he would probably have to get further clearance from the Science Department but he was fairly confident his father would help with that.

_‘Speak of the devil,’_ he thought as his phone rang and the caller ID told him it was his father calling.

“Father?”

_“Sephiroth. Where are you?”_

“In my apartment. I—”

_“I need you to pack your things and move to our house. It’s an indefinite thing so make sure you bring everything you’ll need. It’s already been cleared with President Rufus and Lazard so don’t worry about that.”_

Sephiroth frowned and closed his computer with more force than he meant. “What? Why do I—?”

_“Please just do as I ask, son. I promise I’ll explain as much as I can later tonight.”_

He could argue for a few minutes and incur in his father’s anger, causing his inevitable stay at his parents’ home—because there was no way Sephiroth would win this argument, not when both Rufus and Lazard had already green lighted his move—to be an unpleasant ordeal for everyone involved. Arguing, therefore, was a waste of time and breath. 

“Understood. I will pack everything I need and be home in a couple of hours. I’ll just stop by to check on Angeal and Genesis before leaving, if that’s acceptable.”

_“Of course. Just stay as far away from Director Valentine as you can.”_

His frown deepened and a cold feeling gripped his chest. “Is this about what happened in the labs?”

After a slight hesitation, Gast said, _“Yes. But I can’t discuss it over the phone. Just get packed and go home as soon as you can.”_

“All right.”

The call ended and Sephiroth started moving on autopilot. He was used to packing at a moment’s notice given the nature of his work, so he’d learned how to be quick and efficient about it. He debated whether to carry his two suitcases to Angeal and Genesis’s apartment or have someone from the company deliver them to his parents’ while he visited his friends. Deciding he didn’t want to risk any of his belongings getting damaged or going missing— _again_ ; those blasted fans always found a way to steal his belts, leaving him in the really awkward position of having to denounce their theft to Security, meaning Heidegger had ample opportunity to laugh at him whenever they met—, he took the suitcases with him. 

* * *

 

Fifteen minutes later, he was about to knock on the door to Genesis and Angeal’s apartment when it flew open inwards and he was face to face with an enraged Genesis. The slightly shorter man gave him a withering glare with his blue eyes before trying to move past him. However, as soon as he noticed the suitcases in Sephiroth’s hands, Genesis stopped and looked at his friend with curiosity rather than barely contained fury. 

“Are they sending you off somewhere?”

Sephiroth couldn’t help but smile lopsidedly and shrug. “In a manner of speaking. I’m to move back to my parents’ house for an indeterminate amount of time. I was just here to let you guys know and check on you.”

Genesis hesitated, obviously caught between wanting to speak to his friend and not wanting to be in his apartment for whatever reason. With a sigh, he went back inside and motioned for Sephiroth to follow him. 

They had barely made it to the living room when Angeal came rushing out of the hallway leading to the master bedroom, managing to look concerned and relieved at the same time. Sephiroth immediately caught on to the fact that his friends had just been in a quarrel of sorts, most likely romantic in nature, and he’d intruded on Genesis’s no doubt dramatic exit. He felt suddenly awkward and, not wanting to get caught in the middle of a lovers’ spat, he picked up his suitcases from where he’d left them and tried to leave.

“Like I said, Genesis, I’m just going to my parents’ for a while—”

“Don’t you _dare_ leave like that,” Genesis said. 

He whirled around so quickly that he made himself dizzy. He stumbled a couple of steps to the side and would have fallen to the hardwood floor if Angeal’s quick reflexes hadn’t allowed him to be at his side in the blink of an eye to keep him upright. With an angry scowl, Genesis shoved the taller man away and went to stand by the wall, bracing himself against it to avoid a repeat of his ungraceful mishap.

“I told you I don’t need your pity, Angeal.”

“And I told you it’s _not_ pity, Gen! You’re not well and you need to rest while Professor Faremis finds a way to stop whatever’s eating away at your strength. You’ve already been pulled away from the energy summit next month, and if you don’t slow down and take care of yourself you’re going to end up in administrative leave!”

Sephiroth looked from one of his friends to the other and found himself having to avert his gaze from the couple. He could read all that Genesis wasn’t saying in his body language: _I don’t want you to look down on me, Angeal. I want us to remain being equals and that can’t happen if you’re constantly worried about my health. I will not become a burden to you._

Angeal’s eyes spoke volumes, too: _I love you too much to see you injured out of your stubborn sense of pride. I want us to fight side by side like we’ve always done, so_ please _let me help you. You are not a burden—I_ want _to be by your side through all of this._

Most painful of all was that he was certain that both men knew what the other thought and felt, yet neither of them could find the right words to say to make things right between them. 

Genesis was arrogant and vain and took great pride in having climbed the ranks at Shinra on his own steam, Project G’s enhancements notwithstanding. When they made it into the Soldier program, he had created a whole elaborate competition between himself, Angeal, and Sephiroth, something which the other two men didn’t exactly agree with but had never been able to discourage entirely. For him to find himself getting the extremely short stick of Project G’s side effects had been a great blow to his pride, not to mention his self-esteem. 

When they first realised his healing abilities had greatly decelerated, causing wounds that would normally take a few minutes to heal to remain open for hours and leaving behind pale markings that weren’t quite scars, Sephiroth’s father had recommended that Genesis’s field work was cut down at least in half. That had been two months prior and Genesis had gone for another evaluation two days ago. The preliminary results ended in yet another recommendation for the auburn-haired man to lower his physical workload, which in turn led to his participation at the energy summit in Modeoheim to be cancelled. Sephiroth had not seen his friend since before the decision was made but it was plain to see that he hadn’t taken the news well. 

All through this process, Angeal and Sephiroth had done their best to make Genesis feel like things hadn’t changed. They still practiced together at least once a week, never pulling their punches or showing mercy to one another. However, Sephiroth had missed their last two sparring matches entirely on purpose—he noticed how weak Genesis was getting, how much longer it took for him to recover from a parry or a leg sweep. He talked about it with Angeal and the other First agreed with Sephiroth’s conclusion that it was best if he didn’t fight Genesis anymore. The red-cloaked Soldier would never forgive him if he saw the hesitance in his eyes whenever they sparred. 

Together, Angeal and Sephiroth came up with suitable excuses for the General’s absences. He had a feeling Genesis knew the truth, though, but if he did he never said anything. Sephiroth had kept tabs on his friend through Angeal and his father, and he knew the auburn-haired man was showing no signs of wanting to take a break to take care of his health. In light of the last test’s results and the small exchange between his friends a moment before, Sephiroth guessed that Genesis’s stubbornness and Angeal’s desire to keep his lover in one piece had somehow sparked a fight that led the shorter of the three men to try to escape the apartment.

Except he ran into Sephiroth and now here they all were, standing around awkwardly in the living room, neither of them knowing what to say to cut the tension until Angeal just blurted out the first thing that came to mind. 

“Going away to your parents’, Seph? Who are _you_ running away from?”

Under normal circumstances, the glare Genesis shot his way would’ve had Angeal apologising almost automatically but the larger man didn’t bite. Instead, he moved to sit on the couch while gesturing for Sephiroth to do the same. He didn’t bother with Genesis, knowing his lover would do whatever he wanted. 

Glad for the small reprieve, Sephiroth left his suitcases on the floor near the door and sat next to Angeal.

“I’m not sure,” he said, answering Angeal’s question. “Director Valentine, apparently, but I don’t know why.”

That piqued Genesis’s interest and pried him away from the wall. He sat on the armchair closest to him, and Sephiroth couldn’t help but notice the small wince that flashed across his friend’s face as he did so nor the relieved half-sigh that escaped his lips once he was settled in the comfortable leather. 

“How can you not be sure?” Genesis asked. 

“Start from the beginning, friend,” Angeal suggested.

“Yesterday, shortly after Lazard told me I’d be replacing Genesis at the summit, I ran into Director Valentine at the elevator.” 

He waited for a breath to see if his comment about the summit would elicit some sort of comment or response from either of his friends. When neither said anything, he continued.

“He seemed… tired. I don’t know why that encouraged me to engage him in conversation and invite him to go out drinking with me. He didn’t seem keen on the idea, not until I mentioned that he and I would be working together in the near future. In the end he agreed to go out to dinner, but only because he saw it as an opportunity to talk about work.”

“Are you sure about that?” Genesis asked. He had curled up on the armchair, wrapping his arms around his legs and resting his head on his knees. 

“How do you mean?” Sephiroth asked. He feared Genesis would go on a tangent but he had to admit that, in spite of his faults, his friend was far more knowledgable about interpersonal relationships than he was.

“Did he say he only wanted to talk about work or are you just assuming this?”

“He didn’t say it right then. At dinner, though…” Sephiroth sighed and shook his head slowly. “I expressed a desire for us to get to know each other better outside of work. I said I would like for us to become friends and he… he said he wants to look after me but that he doesn’t think he can have friends ever again.”

“That’s strange,” Angeal said, leaning back on the couch and crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve seen him go out for lunch with the Turks sometimes. Even with Cloud. The kid really looks up to him and Vincent has requested his assistance a number of times.”

Again, Sephiroth had to suppress an irrational sense of jealousy at the mention of Cloud. 

“I know. I asked about that, and he said none of them are his friends. The Turks are the Turks and Cloud sees him as a father figure, a fact he doesn’t seem to mind. Other than that, though, he seems completely cut off from the world, at least emotionally.”

“Did he say why?” Genesis asked.

“He feels out of place, I think. And… he also seems to believe he won’t live much longer. He mentioned that the protomateria that stabilises Chaos is malfunctioning and it’ll become a problem if he can’t fix it.”

The other two Soldiers knew about as much of Vincent and Chaos as Sephiroth did, so neither inquired about that. 

After a long pause, Genesis leaned forward, looking intently at Sephiroth.

“What is your interest in Vincent Valentine, Sephiroth?” Noticing the look the General gave him, Genesis held up his hand to stop him. “Listen. He’s been back from Nibelheim for over four years now, and he’s been working for the company for the last three. There have been plenty of opportunities for you to approach him before yesterday and yet you never did. _That’s_ the norm for you, Sephiroth—you don’t approach people out of the blue. Yet you did with Director Valentine and, please don’t be offended, but you seem very disillusioned that he disregarded your intentions. I would like to know why.”

“Why does it matter?” Sephiroth countered, crossing his arms across his chest in a way that made him seem younger than his thirty years.

“Because any advice I can give will depend upon that.”

Sephiroth thought about it for a long moment. He hadn’t stopped to think about the reasons behind his disappointment, instead wallowing in the disappointment itself. He was angry at himself when he didn’t find a logical answer, something neither of his friends missed. 

“Ah, I see,” Genesis said. His lips curved in a small smile that was only half mocking; the other half was actually concerned.

“See what?” Sephiroth asked. He was trying very hard not to pout.

“You don’t have a logical explanation,” Angeal intervened. “If you did, you would’ve come up with it in the blink of an eye.”

“That means it’s a matter of the heart,” Genesis continued. “And those are tricky, my friend.”

“What’s your advice, then?” The pout was there now, whether he wanted it or not.

Genesis shook his head slowly. “Leave it alone until you figure out why becoming his friend is so important to you. If you keep pushing without knowing that, you risk harm not only to the Director, but to yourself, as well.”

“Well, that shouldn’t be particularly difficult,” Sephiroth said with a huff. “Apparently one or both of the creatures living within him have taken exception to me and I have to move in with my parents’ to avoid their wrath.” He paused for a moment and decided to voice the entirety of his concerns and suspicions. “I don’t think it’s _me_ , though, not exactly.”

“You mean Jenova,” Angeal said. He sat up and turned to Sephiroth fully.

The silver-haired Soldier nodded. “I went to the labs earlier today to talk to my father over lunch. I hadn’t been at his office for more than five minutes when a howl came from one of the examination rooms. It was one of Vincent’s creatures, the one they call Galian. For some reason, Father was taking tissue samples from it when it woke up and attacked the orderlies. It took Chaos a while to rein in the creature, and in that interim… Jenova went crazy. She was shrieking, angry and panicked. Before I could react, Chaos finally took control of Vincent’s body and Jenova’s voice faded away. It was like Chaos was somehow able to subdue her.”

“Have you told Gast any of this?” Genesis asked, a hint of hope in his voice.

“I think he knows. Maybe not all of it but enough to want me to stay away from Vincent. He didn’t want me in the room with him—when Galian broke free, he called Toru and told him to send Tseng over but to tell me to stay put. I went, anyway, and when I got to the exam room Father tried to get me to leave. When Chaos took over, he ordered me to go; in fact, he told me to leave the floor entirely. Father agreed with him. He was the one who arranged for me to move back to my parents’—he even cleared it with Rufus and Lazard before calling me.”

Angeal and Genesis looked at each other, all fight gone from their eyes and replaced by a cautious sort of optimism. None of them voiced their thoughts on that front, however, choosing to focus on their friend and his current situation. 

“You’ll still be showing up for work, I suppose,” Angeal said.

Sephiroth managed a smile. “Of course. Someone has to pick up Genesis’s slack.”

“Very funny,” Genesis said. “At least one good thing has come from your father grounding me.”

“And what’s that?” Sephiroth asked.

“I don’t have to deal with incompetent cadets anymore. That wonderful privilege will now fall upon your distinguished shoulders, my friend.”

Sephiroth groaned; he hadn’t thought of that. Angeal and Genesis laughed at his expense and he eventually joined them. When his laughter died out, he sighed and flopped back on the couch, all thoughts of propriety and grace long since gone. He covered his eyes with his left arm and pouted. 

“Anything else bothering you?” Angeal asked.

“What if my interest in Vincent _does_ end up being romantic?”

Genesis stood up slowly and gingerly picked his way towards his friend. He had Angeal make room for him on the couch and he sat next to Sephiroth, pulling the slightly stockier man towards him so Sephiroth’s head rested on his lap. Stubbornly, Sephiroth continued to cover his face with his arm; Genesis allowed him that small barrier and began combing his fingers through his friend’s long silver locks. Sephiroth sighed and relaxed, allowing the auburn-haired man to comfort him. 

“If you ask me, I think it might be,” Genesis eventually said. “But there’s also a very good chance that you’re idealising Director Valentine. We all know his backstory and, well, one would have to be heartless not to be moved by it in some capacity. Additionally, you have more reason than most to admire the man.”

“More than Strife?” Sephiroth asked. He was aware of how petulant he sounded but he didn’t care. Not when he was with his two best friends.

“Aha,” Angeal said. “Jealous, are you?”

Sephiroth huffed and did his best to curl all his 6’1” on the couch while keeping his head resting on Genesis’s lap. 

“I don’t know. I guess,” he said once he was more or less comfortable on his right side. “I can understand Vincent’s attachment to the Turks—they’re a family of sorts and they have their own code. ‘Once a Turk, always a Turk’, and all that. But Cloud Strife?” 

“A chance connection,” Genesis said placatingly. “Much like yours with Valentine.”

“It’s not as if Cloud could be an obstacle if your feelings turn out to be romantic,” Angeal chimed in. “He has Tifa and he sees Vincent as a father figure, not a potential lover.”

“You’re creating a tempest in a teapot, Sephiroth. You need to figure out what Director Valentine’s connection to Jenova is and you need to sort your feelings out. Until then, you should not be worrying about Cloud, the Turks, or anything else.”

Sephiroth sighed and nodded as best as he could given his position. “All right. Given that you’ll be spending a lot of time here, is it okay if I pick your brain now and then regarding this?”

“I’d be offended if you went to anyone else.”

“Way to leave me out of it, guys,” Angeal 

Genesis smiled and reached back to kiss his lover’s cheek. “We’re a package deal, Geal.”

“You’re rhyming, so I’ll take that as my cue to leave,” Sephiroth said as he disentangled himself from Genesis’s hold. He stood up and stretched, feeling a bit lighter than when he came in. Eying his friends carefully, he said, “Are you two going to be all right?”

Genesis and Angeal looked at each other for a moment. It was Genesis that said, “Yes, I believe we will. I’ll… I’ll try to be less stubborn and let Angeal help me out a bit more.”

Angeal smiled and rested his forehead on Genesis’s shoulder. “Good. I’ll try to be less of a mother hen and more understanding of your situation.”

“You’re not off the hook for chickening out of our sparring sessions, though,” Genesis told Sephiroth.

“I’ll bring you some of Aerith’s flowers and tea next time.”

“All right, you’re off the hook.”

Sephiroth grinned and leaned down to kiss the top of Genesis head and to pat Angeal’s shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t bother getting up, I’ll see myself out.”

Genesis waited two minutes after the door closed behind Sephiroth before curling on Angeal’s lap and resting his head on the other man’s strong chest. 

“He’s got it bad,” he said.

“Hmm? Got what?”

The auburn-haired man rolled his eyes and punched Angeal lightly on the shoulder. “He’s in love with Director Valentine.”

“Now, Gen, just because—”

“Of course neither of you would notice right away. He’s so out of tune with his own emotions he wouldn’t recognise love even if you described it clinically to him. And you—it took you _years_ to notice how I felt about you, not to mention how _you_ felt about _me_. For me, though, both of you are clearer than _Loveless_.”

Angeal chuckled and wrapped his arms around Genesis, drawing him closer to him as he kissed his forehead. “You got me there. Are you sure, though?”

Genesis sighed, sadness creeping into his voice as he replied. “Yes. I’m afraid our friend has a long, painful road ahead of him. I cannot claim to know how Valentine will react to the news, but I do know that if he does have feelings for Sephiroth, he won’t readily accept them. I mean… after everything he’s gone through already, can you imagine falling for the son of the woman he loved? Even if she hadn’t gone and betrayed him and _experimented_ on him with her _husband_ ’s help, the fact that he once had feelings for her must be a strong enough deterrent in his mind. To say nothing of the creatures he now harbours.”

“Creatures that could be the answer to your health problems and Sephiroth’s.”

Closing his eyes, Genesis held on tighter to Angeal. “I don’t want to get my hopes up on that front. But yes, the thought crossed my mind when Sephiroth mentioned what happened at the labs. If Vincent’s creatures are, indeed, the answer to our problems…” He paused, a frown creasing his brow. “That would bring them closer while pulling them apart, I’m afraid.”

“Makes you wish Hojo were alive just so we could butcher him, doesn’t it?” Angeal asked.

“Indeed.”

* * *

 

About an hour after leaving the Shinra Building, Sephiroth arrived at his parents’ house. He went into the living room and called out to his mother and sister but received no answer. It wasn’t exactly a surprise given that it was barely after five o’clock and Ifalna and Aerith usually got off work at that time. With a sigh, Sephiroth went to his old room and unpacked before taking a quick shower. He did his best not to dwell on Vincent but the incident at the labs kept circling back into his mind, unbidden and relentless. In an effort to keep his mind occupied, he went to the backyard to check Aerith’s flowers and plants. 

As he watered Aerith’s favourite lilies, his mind wandered towards his friends. Angeal had an open invitation to visit Aerith’s garden, given his affection for all kinds of plants. Genesis, on the other hand, wasn’t overly fond of potted plants because they tended to foster bugs and if there was something city-boy Rhapsodos hated, it was bugs. Somehow, this fact had made its way to their fan clubs and an email began to circulate detailing a conversation between Genesis and Angeal where the auburn-haired Soldier complained about the bugs that came into his apartment because of Angeal’s plants. That had been before they moved in together, something that had thankfully _not_ reached their fans’ ears. Sephiroth could barely imagine the PR nightmare that would ensue if his friends’ fans found out they were living together, amongst other things. 

Sephiroth was happy for them, and not only because he knew that, in spite of Genesis’s stubbornness, Angeal had managed to keep Genesis calm in the face of his deteriorating health. It had been Angeal who nearly dragged Genesis to Gast’s office to examine an array of cuts and bruises that hadn’t healed overnight after a skirmish with Avalanche operatives outside of Midgar. If he hadn’t done so, Genesis probably would’ve waited until something much more serious happened and that might have proven fatal for the _Loveless_ enthusiast. 

Idly, Sephiroth wondered if Vincent had someone like that in his life. Not a lover, but someone who would drag him to the doctor’s office when he was unwell, whether he wanted it or not. Given that Tseng was at his father’s office earlier that day waiting for the Director, Sephiroth supposed he did. But that was because both Vincent and Tseng were Turks, wasn’t it? Would Vincent allow anyone other than his Turks to care for him like that? 

_Perhaps Cloud,_ he thought bitterly.

There it was again. Jealousy at the mere thought of Cloud. It made no sense, particularly taking into account what Angeal had said about the Second having a girlfriend and seeing Vincent as a father figure. Then again, perhaps he wasn’t jealous of Cloud so much as of how close he was to the Director. After all, Angeal had also mentioned that the blond went out to lunch with Vincent on occasion, in addition to working with the Turks at the gunman’s request. That, in turn, reminded him that the Director had never requested _his_ help—whenever a Soldier First Class was required to work with the Turks, however infrequent that was, Genesis was the go-to person. Even Angeal had worked with them on occasion, although it had always been a spur of the moment thing. 

Sephiroth wondered if his friends knew more about the situation than they let on during their conversation. 

“You’re going to drown them, brother.”

Aerith’s sweet, slightly mocking voice tore him apart from his realisation. He shut off the valve on the hose and turned around to find his sister standing under the archway that divided the patio from the garden itself, smiling at him with that all-knowing glint in her emerald eyes. He left the hose on the ground and walked over to Aerith, hugging her tight and soaking up the sense of calm that always seemed to radiate from the young woman. 

“You’re so tense,” she said as she rubbed his back. “Is everything all right?”

With a slow shake of his head, Sephiroth held his sister at arm’s length. “Not really. I… I might need to talk to you about some things later, if you have time.”

“Of course,” Aerith said. 

She hooked her arm on Sephiroth’s and together they walked back into the house. The brunette led her brother into the kitchen, where their mother was putting away some groceries. Sephiroth kissed his mother’s cheek and started helping out with the stuff that needed to go into the higher shelves.

“It’s good to have you home, dear,” Ifalna said. 

“So Father told you?”

“Tell what?” Aerith asked. She was getting ready to make dinner.

“I’ll be staying home for… well, I don’t know how long.”

“Oh,” Aerith said. “Zack didn’t mention anything when I talked to him before coming back home.”

“I didn’t tell him,” Sephiroth said. “I just talked to Genesis and Angeal before leaving.” Noticing the disapproving look Aerith shot him, he raised his hands in a defensive position. “It’s no big deal. I’m not taking a vacation or anything. I’ll let him know tomorrow when I go in to check on Gen.”

“Hmm,” was all Aerith said.

“Your father didn’t tell me why you’ll be staying with us, though.”

Sephiroth closed the last cupboard and sat on a stool at the bar that divided the dining room from the kitchen. “I think it has something to do with Director Valentine but I don’t know the specifics. Father said he would explain it when he came home.”

Aerith fumbled with the bottle of tomato sauce she was trying to open. Sephiroth noticed the minute widening of her eyes as well as the way her shoulders tensed up, but it was there and gone in a flash. Not wanting to put her sister on the spot, he let it slip and returned his attention to his mother.

“Is Vincent all right?” Ifalna asked. “Your father and I were supposed to review some files together but Toru called around noon to let me know Gast would be busy with Vincent most of the day.”

“I don’t really know,” Sephiroth said. “I went to talk to Father around lunch time and… there was an incident involving the Director. Galian went on a bit of a rampage while undergoing some tests. Nothing major, though.”

“That poor man,” Ifalna said, shaking her head sadly. “I wish there was something we could do to remove those creatures from him without harming him.”

“Dad hasn’t given up,” Aerith said softly. 

“I know. But it sounds like Vincent has, sometimes.”

“Because of the protomateria, you mean?” Sephiroth asked.

“You know about that?” Ifalna sounded surprised.

Sephiroth nodded slowly as he peeled an orange he took from the fruit bowl. He wasn’t particularly hungry but he needed to do something with his hands, otherwise he’d offer to help Aerith with dinner and that wouldn’t end well.

“He mentioned it in passing last night.”

“Last—? Oh, right. Aerith said she and Zack ran into both of you at Tifa’s bar. Well, how much did he say about it?”

“Not a lot. Just that he won’t last very long if he and Chaos can’t find a way to fix it.”

“Put simply, yes. He’s not suffering any side effects yet, I don’t think. Your father seems confident enough that they’ll be able to stabilise it before it becomes a real problem.”

Sephiroth frowned. “Vincent sounded much less optimistic when he brought it up.”

“He’s not the most positive of people when it comes to his condition,” Ifalna said with a shrug. 

While he mulled this new information over, the phone rang. Ifalna picked it up in the living room, leaving Sephiroth and Aerith alone. He divided the orange in two and went over to his sister, offering her half. She smiled at him and took the fruit, popping a slice into her mouth as she tossed some chicken into a hot pan. 

Leaning against the dishwasher, Sephiroth ate some of his orange. When he realised his mother was talking to his father on the phone, he deemed it safe to pry a little into Aerith’s earlier reaction—after all, their parents’ phone conversations took at least ten minutes, particularly if Gast was working late. When he was younger, he used to think they were exceedingly cloying; now, however, he couldn’t help but smile at the pet names they had for each other and was amazed that they were so in love even after nearly thirty years together. 

With a small smile, he nudged Aerith’s foot with his. “You know something.”

Not turning to look at him, she replied, “I know lots of things.”

“You know something I don’t.” Anticipating her evasive reply, he added, “About Vincent.”

Flipping the chicken and then moving to check the water she had set to boil for the pasta, the young Cetra looked troubled. Sephiroth frowned and gently grabbed her wrist once she let go of the ladle she’d used to stir the water. 

“Hey,” he said. “What’s wrong, Eri?” 

‘Eri’ was the nickname Sephiroth had come up with for Aerith when they were younger. He didn’t use it often anymore, only when he wanted to tease her or reassure her. It brought a small smile to her lips now, although Sephiroth could still see the uncertainty in her eyes. 

“It’s not something we can fully discuss in the time it will take mom and dad to finish talking. It might be best to wait until you’ve talked to dad.”

“Okay,” Sephiroth said. Wanting her to relax, he decided to change topics. “I promised Genesis I’d stop by tomorrow and that I’d bring him some of your flowers and more of that herbal tea you sent him a few weeks ago.”

“What are you making up for?” Aerith asked. 

The mirth and mischief were back in her voice and eyes, making Sephiroth feel better.

“I ditched our last two sparring matches and he was threatening to lord it over me.”

“That would do it. I’ll leave them ready for you in the counter. How is he, anyway?”

Sephiroth shrugged. “The same, more or less. He has to go back to see Father on Monday for a follow-up of his last appointment and his field work load has been cut again. He won’t be representing Soldier at the summit next month.”

“He can’t be in a very good mood, given all of that.”

“I think he and Angeal had just had an argument when I dropped by earlier to let them know I’d be staying here. Luckily, that whole thing with Vincent distracted them from their own issues for a while. They seemed to have patched things up by the time I left.”

Aerith emptied a packet of pasta unto the boiling water and then prepared a baking dish. “At least something good came out of your ordeal.”

“Who said it was my ordeal?”

“Like you said, I know things.” Before he could reply, she said, “Could you light the oven for me, please?”

“Sure.”

* * *

 

Less than an hour later, all four members of the Faremis-Gainsborough family sat at the table eating Aerith’s oven-baked chicken pasta. As per Ifalna’s request, Sephiroth and Gast refrained from discussing work related matters, so the conversation inevitably stirred towards Sephiroth’s birthday.

When Gast and Ifalna officially adopted Sephiroth, they found out that no one had ever celebrated his birthday until he turned 13. They asked him why and he said that Hojo had never told him the date of his birth and had never made any effort to take part in the usual social conventions such as birthdays. It wasn’t until Sephiroth met Angeal, Genesis, and Rufus on the year he turned thirteen, which was also the year Hojo got him into the Soldier program, that anyone took an interest in his birthday. All of them found it odd that their new friend didn’t know when his birthday was and they tried to get Sephiroth to convince Hojo to tell him at least the month of his birth so they could celebrate with him. At the time, however, Sephiroth was still very much under Hojo’s strict influence and never dared question his biological father. The other boys then decided to pick a day at random to give presents to their friend, the 15th of October being the chosen date. 

Surprisingly, the boys weren’t that far off. After returning to Midgar, Gast went through all of Hojo’s files on Sephiroth and found that the young man’s birthdate was October 6th. He informed Sephiroth but the silver-haired youth decided to keep celebrating on the 15th. Given that Hojo had never bothered with a birth certificate, Gast decided to humour his son and set down October 15th as his official date of birth when the adoption papers were drawn. 

This year, Sephiroth’s birthday would coincide with the energy summit in Modeoheim, so the plan was to celebrate afterwards. 

“I imagine you will want something low key once again,” Gast said good-humouredly. 

“Well, yes. Nothing has changed since last year so there’s no one new I’d like to invite.”

That wasn’t quite true, but given the fact that he couldn’t be in the same room as Vincent without something going horribly wrong he wasn’t about to invite him to his birthday party. 

Once again, Aerith faltered at her brother’s comment, nearly dropping her fork to the floor. Their parents said nothing so, once again, Sephiroth let it slip. 

“Where do you want to have the get-together?” Ifalna asked. 

“Seventh Heaven would be fine,” Sephiroth said. “Unless you’re tired of it.”

“Not at all,” Gast said, waving his fork. 

“Is there anything you would like as a present?” his mother asked.

Sephiroth thought about it for a moment. Usually he asked for practical things like mastered materia or some new piece of armour or equipment that might come in handy in the battlefield. And, usually, his family and friends would oblige him while adding something less practical and more recreational. That’s how he got most of his books and where his growing collection of porcelain figurines came from. The Turks had even given him an incense kit the previous year, something he never would’ve chosen for himself but that he’d found very useful more than once. 

It was becoming increasingly difficult to choose, though, so he still hadn’t come up with anything. 

“I really don’t know,” he said with a small shrug. “I guess I’ll let you decide.”

“Well, there’s still time so if you think of—”

Ifalna was interrupted by the ringing of Gast’s phone. With a sheepish smile, the man apologised and went into the living room to answer. He came back not five minutes later and sat heavily on his chair. 

“What is it?” Ifalna asked.

“Work related is what it is. Now, Sephiroth, about your birthday—”

Ifalna rolled her green eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, dear. It’s obviously something important so go ahead.”

“Vincent is awake,” Gast said. “Tseng called to let me know. He said Vincent is a bit tired but otherwise seems to be holding up all right. I’ll check on him tomorrow.”

“That’s good news,” Ifalna said with a smile.

“Yes. Perhaps not the only good news we’ll have in the next few days, either.”

Aerith stood up and went to the sink to rinse her plate. Sephiroth took that as a cue to end dinner. 

“Father? Could we have that talk now?”

Gast exchanged a look with Ifalna. She smiled and started clearing the table. 

“I’ll make some coffee and tea. You boys go to the living room.” She paused for a moment before placing a gentle hand on Aerith’s shoulder. “You, too, sweetie.”

Aerith nodded, kissing her mother’s cheek softly before following the two men to the living room. While Gast took up his favourite armchair, Aerith sat next to Sephiroth on the couch, curling on his side and holding his hand. Sephiroth looked at her and immediately tensed up. 

The last time she’d looked so serious had been a few months after they first met. The Science Department had found the secret laboratory where Hojo had hidden Jenova and Aerith had been the first one to enter the room where the conservation tube was kept. As soon as she approached it, the creature lashed at her telepathically. Even being just half Cetra, Aerith was able not only to withstand the attack but to force the creature to submit. Aerith never told anyone what it was Jenova told her but she spent the next week and a half in a serious mood, barely speaking unless directly addressed. She also kept away from Sephiroth and anyone who had been injected with Jenova’s cells. 

Seeing her so somber worried him, but the fact that she was actively seeking physical closeness with him reassured him, somehow.

“I take it you don’t know why Vincent went to see me today,” Gast said.

Sephiroth shook his head. “No. I didn’t even know he was there until I arrived to your office. I’d talked to him earlier that morning and he said he felt better than he did last night.”

“I’m not sure how he was planning to handle this,” Gast started after a short nod, “but I feel you have a right to know what’s happening, given that you’re directly involved.” He took a deep breath and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Galian Beast, one of the creatures Hojo spliced into Vincent, has been dormant for almost two years now—Chaos and the Director saw to that in order to make Vincent’s life that little bit easier. However, its biological processes continued to run, just at a very slow pace. Now it has gone into mating season, something Chaos cannot stop, at least not on his own. This has caused a hormonal imbalance in Vincent’s body that has, in turn, affected Chaos himself and will affect Vincent in the long run.”

Sephiroth felt Aerith’s hands tightening around his but he directed his question to his father.

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Galian didn’t try to _attack_ you earlier today, son. It was trying to claim you as its mate. I didn’t want you to come close to it because I feared Chaos wouldn’t be able to control it in time. We were lucky he did, but it’s clear from his reaction to your presence that it took him a great deal of effort to control his own impulses once you were in the same room with him.”

The silver-haired man’s eyes widened and he was speechless for a while. He had no idea how to respond to that nor how to appropriately react or feel about the information. At the same time, Vincent’s rejection of his offer for friendship made a lot more sense now. Unless…

“How long has Vincent known about this?”

“Since last night. He said Chaos told him about it while you two were having dinner.”

The flash of gold across Vincent’s eyes had been Chaos, then. The quick retreat to the restroom… The flush on the older man’s face when he returned. Aerith’s comment about how Vincent felt a bit warm…

He turned to his sister, confused. “You… knew?”

Aerith shook her head slowly. “Not really. I knew there was something wrong with him but not only because of his body temperature. I felt…” She paused and sighed. “I’ve always been able to feel Chaos within Vincent. He was, after all, born from the Lifestream and is, in his own way, a Planet Protector like mom and I. Last night I felt he was agitated, and I felt it had something to do with you. Both he and Vincent were concerned about you, but Chaos… I can’t explain it well. But, from what dad tells us, I suppose I was feeling the turmoil caused by Galian’s base instincts. Except…”

“Except what?” Sephiroth pressed.

Aerith looked sideways at her father before focusing her gaze on her brother’s face. “I don’t think Galian’s hormones are the sole cause of Vincent’s disquiet. I think Vincent _and_ Chaos have mixed feelings about you, Sephiroth. I also think that your sudden interest in Vincent has stirred up some sort of debate between them.”

“Are you saying Vincent and/or Chaos may be attracted to Sephiroth beyond Galian’s impulses?” Gast asked.

The young woman shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. I haven’t been around Vincent very often or for very long, but…” She sighed again, pouting slightly. “It’s hard to describe the movements of a person’s Lifestream. There’s just no _words_. But I do know that he wants you to be safe and happy, to protect you.”

“He said as much, but he was hesitant to talk to me even before Chaos told him about Galian’s… impulses,” Sephiroth said. “Even before he knew, he didn’t want to get involved with me.”

“That makes sense,” Aerith said. “It must be uncomfortable for him to think back on how he couldn’t stop Hojo and Lucrecia from experimenting on you.”

“So I gathered from our talk last night,” Sephiroth mused. Before the topic could stray in that direction, he returned his attention to his father. “Why does Galian want _me_ as its mate?”

“Well, that has something to do with what I said about more possible good news,” Gast said. “I’m not done with the analyses, but from what I was able to see today on the tissue samples I took from Galian and Chaos, I can tell that there is a relation between them and Jenova. Moreover, Galian seems to be related to the Cetra.”

Aerith sat up and blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I haven’t found anything specific yet, but some old books on Cetra culture make reference to large beasts they kept as guardians in certain areas. One of the descriptions vaguely resembles Galian’s form, so I’m guessing that Hojo found remnants of one of these creatures somewhere close to where we discovered Jenova and, true to his nature, experimented with whatever tissue samples he managed to obtain. If my hypothesis is correct, his experimentation with Vincent wasn’t as aimless as we originally thought. I think he was trying to come up with a failsafe of sorts in case the experiments borne by the Jenova Project became unmanageable.”

“So… he implanted Galian unto Vincent to have someone—or some _thing_ —strong enough to subdue an individual with Jenova in their system?” Sephiroth asked.

“It’s possible. If Galian’s ancestors were loyal to the Cetra and fought Jenova alongside them, then it makes sense that it would react to the Jenova cells in your body.”

“Why does it want to _mate_ with me, though? Why not just kill me?”

“You said it just now, Sephiroth,” Gast said. “Galian wanted to subdue you, to make you submit to it. I doubt Hojo found a complete specimen or even a 100% viable tissue sample. He must have tampered with whatever he found and it’s very likely he ended up with something that was far more instinctual than logical. As long as it remains victorious over Jenova, the manner of said victory is unimportant.”

“But Jenova went hysterical when Galian took control. She didn’t shut up until Chaos reined Galian in.”

“You heard Jenova again?” Gast asked, taken aback. When Sephiroth only nodded, he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“There was no time at the lab or afterwards. Don’t worry,” he added quickly when he saw the concern in his father’s eyes. “I couldn’t even make out what she was saying, if she was saying anything at all. All I heard was angry and panicked screaming, and I felt a lot of fear and loathing when Chaos spoke to me. Like she resented him.”

“She would,” Aerith said. “Chaos is the one being in the entire Planet that could effectively take her down. She’s alien matter, an infestation, and Chaos’s job is to ensure the integrity of Gaia’s soul. The only reason he never came forth when Jenova first arrived was because the damage she caused was focalised and the Cetra were, to an extent, able to contain it and her.”

“If you knew all that about Chaos and Jenova, why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Sephiroth asked.

Ifalna entered with a tray with a mug of coffee and three mugs of tea. She set them on the coffee table before taking her cup of tea and sitting next to Sephiroth.

“Because I asked her not to,” she said.

“What? Why? If we’d known about this sooner, then Genesis—”

“Sephiroth, you must understand. There are no guarantees that your father or anyone in the Science Department will be able to come up with a way to harness Chaos’s powers to neutralise Jenova completely. And even if they do, there’s no way to know what her absence from your bodies will cause. It could kill you, dear.” 

Seeing the anger in Sephiroth’s cat-like eyes, she set her mug back on the tray and cupped her son’s face in her hands. 

“Sephiroth, my son, I want nothing more than to see Genesis healthy again and to know that that aberration’s voice will never again haunt your days and nights. But after everything Vincent has been through, I could not ask him to consign himself to a laboratory to be poked at and prodded again based on nothing but suppositions and baseless hypotheses. Especially when it could get you killed—everything he’s ever wanted is for you to be _safe_ , Sephiroth.”

“They’re not baseless—”

“Not anymore,” Ifalna interrupted. “But they were four years ago, and they remained so until today.”

“You also have to take Vincent’s feelings into account,” Aerith said. She was still holding Sephiroth’s hand and she could feel it trembling. “It’s likely he’ll want to help, but…”

“But what?” Sephiroth asked, turning to look at his sister.

Aerith searched his eyes for a moment and seemed disappointed at what she found—or didn’t find—in them. “You really don’t understand, do you?”

“Understand _what_?” Sephiroth sounded frustrated.

“Your own feelings. The reason why you approached him, the reason you were so upset last night when Zack and I arrived and gave Vincent an opening to leave early. The reason why you’re so troubled and concerned for him.”

“I think what your sister is trying to say, son,” Gast intervened, “is that you might be developing feelings for Vincent. Perhaps even _romantic_ feelings,” he added.

He wanted to tell them all that it was ridiculous, that they were reading too much into things. He couldn’t, though, because Genesis and Angeal had arrived to the same conclusion through different paths and by taking different facts into account. He didn’t believe in love at first sight and knew this wasn’t it, either. But he knew life was a cycle, that the Planet was alive and had a will of its own. He’d always known that it wasn’t a coincidence that he ended up being the adoptive son and brother of the last two remaining Cetra. And it seemed now that it wasn’t a coincidence that Vincent had ended up with the two creatures in the entire Planet that could hold the key to neutralising Jenova and thus healing one of his best friends. 

It hit him then, why Aerith was so sad—because the hesitance and frustration were only a cover for the much more poignant truth: Aerith was _heartbroken_ for him and Vincent because the very thing that drew them together could be the one thing that kept them apart.

Vincent would allow Gast to investigate Galian and Chaos’s connection to Jenova without much objection, no doubt about that. But as soon as he heard _who_ had ensured that connection he would attempt to sever all other ties with Sephiroth. There was no way the gunman could allow any sort of intimate relationship to develop between them, not when knowing that, at least on his part, the physical attraction was engineered by the man who killed him and made Sephiroth the target of his twisted experimentation. If he had been reluctant to befriend him _before_ finding out that Galian wanted to mate with him, it would be virtually impossible to convince him to put that aside and give Sephiroth a chance. 

Sephiroth doubted Vincent would quit the company, not when the fate of the Turks could end up in Heidegger’s hands, but he would probably arrange things so that he didn’t have to face the General at all. In the short term that meant seriously altering the energy summit security plans. In the long run… Sephiroth didn’t even want to think about it. 

But if Chaos _was_ the key to eliminating Jenova and they could get rid of it forever… Wouldn’t that mean that Galian would lose interest in Sephiroth? Wouldn’t that open at least a tiny window of hope for them? Whether friends or lovers, Sephiroth knew he wanted Vincent to be a part of his life now. He couldn’t say why but there was no use denying it. 

“Stop thinking, brother,” Aerith said, wrapping her arms around his neck. “One thing at a time, otherwise you’ll drown like those flowers you were watering earlier.”

“Aerith is right,” Gast agreed. “I still need to finish analysing all the samples, and I need to speak to Vincent about what I’ve already found. Then I’ll work on suppressing Galian’s impulses so you two can talk things over without any unfortunate interruptions.”

Sephiroth sighed heavily but nodded, pulling Ifalna to his side with his left arm while he held Aerith close with his right one. 

“I don’t suppose I can ask for that talk as an early birthday present, can I?”

Gast stood up and kissed the top of Sephiroth’s head. “You can. I promise to do my best to make it happen.”

 

 


	5. All (Turks) For One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Once a Turk, always a Turk is not just a cute motto—it’s a pledge we live by.”   
> When one spent their days and nights chasing after rebel factions, catching spies and turncoats, carrying out assassinations and generally being the shady shield for the most powerful corporation on the planet, while at the same time trying to avoid getting killed by loathsome executives in the aforementioned company, one tended to dance dangerously over the line between heartlessness and despair. Only someone in the same position would understand; only a fellow Turk would know what it felt like to crave the reassurance that your humanity had not disappeared along with that last bullet fired, that last detonation, that last lie filtered to the right people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My take on Turk psychology has been greatly influenced by FanFiction(dot)net's LadyNightRunner. If you can, go read her stuff, it's awesome.
> 
> About this chapter... There's no way to cite Vincent/Tseng/Cissnei/Reno/Rude/Elena as a... pairing... so that's where Vincent Valentine/The Turks came from. The chapter was running horribly long so that's why there's no explicit sex scene. That, and I don't think I needed it. But I might tackle something of the sort for parallel stories, so keep an eye open for that if you're interested in that.
> 
> This is my favourite chapter so far. Just sayin'.

Vincent woke up to a dull ache deep within his bones. He always felt like a behemoth had run him over after allowing Galian or Chaos to take over his body but this time it was slightly worse. He supposed it had something to do with the fact that he’d had to transform more than once in a short amount of time, stressing his body beyond the limits it was used to. At least he wasn’t conscious when Chaos released Galian from its metaphysical chains—Galian always hurt more than Chaos, given that his shape was so dissimilar to Vincent’s human form. 

He rolled to his side and didn’t bother to hold back the pained moan the motion tore from his throat. He was alone, and—

_No, you’re not,_ Chaos said. _Vim and Vigour are out in the living room. Reno’s been here since they brought you back from the labs, and Rude joined him about an hour ago. I expect Tseng to be here soon, too._

Vim and Vigour was the collective nickname Chaos had for Reno and Rude; when they weren’t together, Chaos referred to Reno as Blaze and Rude as Shade. He called Tseng Ninja Princeling on account of his being a close relative of Godo Kisaragi, the current ruler of Wutai, and the ninja bit was self-explanatory. Cissnei was Swan because the Costan name for the bird— _cisne—_ closely resembled her name; and Elena was Baby Turk both because she was the latest addition to the team and the youngest of them all. 

Chaos actually had nicknames for a lot of the people Vincent knew, and all of them were a bit silly. The gunman was glad no one but him knew about this.

_Why are they here?_ Vincent asked. 

_You don’t remember, then?_

That was all the incentive Vincent needed to crawl out of the sleepy fog he hadn’t bothered to shake off. He sat up on the edge of his bed and tried to remember the last part of his time at the labs earlier. The last thing he remembered was going into the examination room specially designed to contain Galian, then a rising feeling of panic that was quickly followed by deep sleep. After that there was nothing until he woke up a few minutes earlier. 

_Well, at least we know Gast finally found the right combination of suppressants and tranquillisers to keep you unaware of what happens when he’s prodding at Galian._

_Chaos…_

_Fine,_ Chaos groused. _Sephiroth stopped by the labs unannounced while Gast was finishing up with Galian. I lost control for a few minutes but nothing tragic happened. But, well, Sephiroth got a look good at Galian and me, and I ended up threatening him if he didn’t leave._

Vincent sighed and buried his face in his hands. _To borrow Reno’s evocative vernacular: Fuck. My. Life._

_C’mon, it’s not_ that _bad. I’m sure I scared him enough for him to leave you be for a while. Isn’t that what you wanted?_

_I don’t even know anymore._

Thankfully, Chaos chose not to answer to that. Vincent stood and went to take a shower before changing into his training sweatpants and sweatshirt. He looked through his drawers for one of the surgical strength painkillers Gast had prescribed for him when he brought up the bone and joint pain caused by his transformations but couldn’t find any. With an annoyed sigh, he held his hair in a hasty ponytail and plodded into the living room.

Rude was on the phone while Reno rummaged through the kitchen humming some weird techno tune that Vincent recognised from the radio. One of the few things he found he enjoyed after rejoining society was techno music. Chaos liked to poke fun at him because of it but, truth be told, he liked it, too.

Passing Rude by silently, Vincent went into the kitchen and took a bottle of water from the fridge. Reno didn’t notice him until he closed the door. The redhead nearly jumped a mile, hitting his head against a cupboard. Vincent couldn’t help but laugh, feeling some of his tension ease away.

_Laughter truly is the best medicine,_ Chaos intoned.

_Indeed. I still want some of those pills, though._

“ _How_ do you _do_ that, Bossman?!” Reno demanded while rubbing the back of his head. There were tears in his eyes but he looked more offended than hurt.

“I suppose it’s a mixture of whatever Hojo did to me plus your sloppy training. Rude didn’t notice me passing him by in the living room, either.”

“No, I didn’t,” Rude admitted. 

There was a smirk on his face as he sat down at the bar, his ever-present sunglasses gone as they were wont to be during informal Turk meetings at Vincent’s place. Too much time around explosives and blazing fires had done a number on Rude’s eyes and the sunglasses were a necessity more than a fashion statement. However, since Vincent was still photosensitive to a degree, the lights in his apartment were mellower than anywhere else, allowing Rude to do without his shades.

“Tseng is on his way, Vale. Cissnei and Elena, too.”

There was an old Turk tradition of giving affectionate pet names to one’s siblings in arms. Vincent was not one to let traditions die, so when he took over as Head Turk, he gathered his five companions and chose nicknames for each and allowed them to choose what they wanted to call him. These names, however, were only to be used outside of work and only with fellow Turks. 

Tseng would stick to variations of Vincent’s name and surname, like Vin and Val, sometimes adding - _sama_ at the end in Wutain fashion. Vincent called him Corvus, the name of the crow constellation _,_ not only because of his hair colour but because of the deathly sort of elegance the Wutain radiated. Following Wutain tradition from his mother’s side, he sometimes added different honorifics to both Tseng’s name and nickname, as well as with the other four Turks.

Reno stuck to Vince and Bossman even after hours. Unimaginative as it was, Reno was Red to Vincent, although it wasn’t a reference only to his hair and the twin tattoos on his face, but his fiery spirit. 

Rude favoured Vale although he would often use Boss, instead. To Vincent he was Tower, not only because of his height but because of his penchant for protecting everyone in the team.

Cissnei was a fan of Vincent’s since before he returned to Shinra; after all, he was and remained the Turks’ most notable marksman ever. She’d heard Veld refer to the gunman as ‘deadeye’ once, and she chose that nickname for their new boss. It had taken Vincent a while to settle on a pet name for her, but eventually he came up with Grimalkin. She was a lot like a cuddly cat and had a tendency to do her best to soothe and comfort others through physical contact such as hugs and hand-holding; she’d cuddle with anyone who allowed her to, as well. 

Finally, Elena had a bit of an obsession with eyes and she fell in love with the colour of Vincent’s, so she called him Vermeil. Since Elena was peppy and upbeat, eager to please and better herself, he called her Bushy-tail’. (Also, she was a notorious morning person, quite unlike anyone else on the team.) 

Realising all five Turks were seemingly going to end up at his apartment, Vincent’s eyebrows shot up in mild surprise. “A full house? Am I dying and no one told me?”

“You’re obviously not, if you’re already up after a full day at the labs,” Rude said. “By the way, here.” He reached into his jacket’s pocket and handed Vincent a small bottle of the pills the gunman had been looking for. “Figured you’d want these.”

The gunman took the bottle and smiled appreciatively. “You’re a good man, Tower.”

He uncapped the bottle and took two pills, which he drank with water from the bottle he got earlier. He then tossed the pill bottle to Reno. The redhead took one pill, cut it in half with one of Vincent’s kitchen knives, and swallowed the smaller bit dry. He returned the remaining half to the bottle and tossed it back to Vincent. 

“Good thing I have somethin’ in my stomach already, otherwise I’d be out like a light in half an hour, yo,” he said. 

“I’ll have to take another two before going to bed again,” Vincent said with a shrug. He looked at the items Reno had put together on the counter. “Corn chowder?”

“Yep,” Reno said. “Thought you’d still be asleep and was going to be a surprise for when you woke up but, well.”

“Don’t let me stop you.”

Reno saluted and started preparing the ingredients he’d need. No one would know it by looking at his scrawny figure, but Reno was actually a pretty good cook. In fact, all Turks had at least basic cooking skills under their belts, in addition to medical training and an array of other abilities. Whenever the populace heard about the Turks, they immediately thought of the shadier aspects of their job, but there were elements of finesse and even artistry to their profession. Vincent hadn’t been back for long when he noticed that those less known aspects had been neglected during his absence. He intended to correct this slight on his current subordinates so they would not incur in it when they were authorised to hire more personnel. 

He finished his bottle of water and helped Reno with the vegetables. Soon Rude joined them and they fell into a comfortable silence interspersed with requests to pass this or that ingredient or implement. They accidentally knocked things off the counter but someone’s reflexes always kicked in time to keep the clumsy items from falling to the floor. Reno had both Vincent and Rude try things for salt and other condiments, sometimes from spoons and sometimes from his fingers. There was no hesitation from either men to lick or suck food from the lithe man’s fingers, no sexual innuendos or comments made. Just quiet murmurs of ‘more salt’ or ‘easy on the hot sauce, Red’, followed by Reno’s approving hums or mischievous giggles.

Tseng arrived about half an hour into the cooking session with a few of bottles of wine, two six-packs of dark ale, four six-packs of lager, iced tea from Leviathan’s Scales, a couple of cartons of cigarettes, and assorted snacks—everything they’d need to hole themselves in Vincent’s apartment for several hours until one or several of them passed out on the living room floor (except for the desserts—Elena was in charge of those). It was a rare occurrence but one Vincent had never discouraged them from. Turks needed time to bond, craved the easy companionship that they could only ever truly get with their own. 

“Where’s everyone?” Tseng called from the hallway.

“Kitchen, yo!”

“Be there in a minute,” the Wutain replied.

After leaving his haul in the living room, he went into the kitchen and smiled at his companions. 

“Need an extra pair of hands?”

Vincent turned around and pushed hair out of his face with his forearm. “Not sure there’s enough space for that, Tseng-san.”  

“Oh, but you could start hollowing out the peasant breads, yo. They’re in the bar over there.”

“Peasant bread?” Rude asked.

“That’s how chowders are usually eaten,” Vincent informed him. “You take a peasant bread, cut the top and hollow it out, and then serve the chowder inside. Edible crockery.”

“That’s genius,” Tseng said. He grabbed a serrated knife and a cutting board and set to work after Reno showed him how thick he wanted the walls of the bread to be.

“Yeah, but most restaurants are too cheap to spring for individual bread pieces, yo,” Reno lamented. “So they serve it in bowls and then hand out cheap breadsticks to go with it.”

“I think this will be the first time I’ll eat proper corn chowder since before I first joined the Turks,” Vincent commented.

“Really??” Reno’s eyes opened so wide it was comical. “Shit, man, that’s a long time. I hope I don’t screw it up, yo.”

“No way you can, Red,” Vincent said, letting the nickname slip from his mouth easily but full of meaning. 

Tseng and Rude snickered at the way Reno’s pale skin blushed, matching his moniker perfectly. The redhead simply mumbled something that sounded like a thank-you and focused all of his attention on the food. 

Soon all that was left to do was wait for the chowder to finish cooking and preparing a simple salad. Rude took care of the salad while Vincent decided to make a cheese dip with which to eat the crumbs. He sat next to Tseng as he worked and took the opportunity to ask his second in command the reason behind their impromptu get-together.

“You gave me a bit of a scare earlier, Vin,” Tseng said. “I don’t know how much you remember, if anything—”

“Nothing after Chaos took over before letting Galian out for the tests.”

“Well, damn,” Tseng said, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. “Want me to tell you now or should we wait until everyone’s here?”

Vincent didn’t say anything about Tseng’s assumption that he would be explaining anything to them because the Wutain was right, he would. Instead he just nodded and said it’d be best if they waited.

* * *

 

Cissnei and Elena arrived almost an hour later. To make up for their tardiness, even though there hadn’t been an official arrival time, they turned up loaded with pastries, candies, three cartons of ice cream, and assorted chocolates, including all of Vincent’s favourites. 

It had come as a shock for all of them to find that their new leader had a sweet tooth—he certainly didn’t look the part of a sugar-addicted fiend—but they were all quick to indulge him just like they indulged everyone in their team/family. 

Tseng favoured a particular brand of red wine that was only made in the vineyards south of Mideel, making it a great deal more expensive than any other brand readily available in Midgar. Reno once forgot to order the customary bimonthly crate, meaning Tseng ran out of wine for his birthday. This resulted in Reno and Rude having to hop on a helicopter on a last-minute errand to buy the stuff directly from Mideel. Needless to say, the mistake hadn’t been repeated.

Rude was partial to dark beers, so whenever someone had time to during missions, they would get him a few bottles of any and all dark brews they could find. So far, his favourite was the Black Chocobo label from Gold Saucer. Unlike Tseng, he could do with any other brand in a pinch as long as it didn’t come from Junon. Cissnei had once brought him a Sister Ray from there and the hungover it caused him had been epic. 

Reno chain-smoked and got cranky when he couldn’t find a cancer stick to shove into his mouth, so almost every single Turk carried at least a pack of cigarettes to placate him when his supply ran out. He wasn’t particularly picky about brands, but if he could choose he would prefer to smoke Ifrit’s Fire, a brand that was thankfully produced in Midgar. 

Cissnei ate ice cream year round, even during sub-zero temperatures, which explained why she had come up with a special container so people could bring her ice cream from Costa del Sol whenever they were sent to the oceanside town. Like Reno and Rude, she didn’t mind where the ice cream came from but she claimed that Costa’s was the best. Her favourite flavour was Sea Salt.

Lastly, Elena shared Vincent’s passion for sweets, allowing her to bond immediately with him even if their personalities could hardly be more different. Although they couldn’t agree on which brand of soft caramel was best—Elena preferred Icicle Inn’s Snow Drops while Vincent had always been fond of Gongaga’s Tickled Pink—both of them had a particularly weak spot for any and all kinds of chocolate. Vincent’s favourite treat were fruit-filled truffles—strawberry filling was the best if you wanted him to allow for extra downtime or anything particularly shady—; Elena was addicted to caramel-filled squares of dark chocolate.

No one but Rufus Shinra and the Head of the Accounting Department knew it, but the Turks had managed to dedicate a considerable amount of their budget to afford and satisfy their quirks. They got away with it by ensuring Rufus never ran out of the rare and expensive mint liqueur he favoured and providing the Chief Accountant with more Gold Saucer cigars than he could smoke on his own. Tseng suspected he used them to bribe other executives but neither he nor Vincent—or Veld, in his time—cared enough to look into it. 

Speaking of the former Head Turk, Veld would do anything to get his hands on anything Loveless-related. He had several editions of the play, plus any and all bits of merchandise he or the other Turks could find. Rumour had it that Commander Rhapsodos once took a look at Veld’s collection and tried to buy it from him. Veld’s negative caused a tantrum that still made everyone who witnessed it cringe.

Once everyone arrived, they decided to eat in the living room, which meant Reno and Rude made quick trips to their apartments to bring their coffee tables. In the meantime, Tseng and Vincent moved the furniture around to allow them all enough room to sit on the floor without being cramped. Once the three coffee tables were arranged in a triangular disposition, Reno and Elena poured corn chowder on six peasant breads and took them to the living room along with the salad. Tseng drank his wine, Reno and Cissnei drank the lager, Rude drank the dark beer, and Elena and Vincent drank iced tea. 

It was an unspoken rule of their off-the-clock gatherings not to talk shop. True to tradition, all six of them focused on topics not related to work, like where did Reno learn to make corn chowder and would he be willing to cook for Cissnei’s birthday next year. The subject of birthdays quickly became the main topic, jumping from one member to the next until it was inevitably Vincent’s turn. 

One of the few things Vincent had been reluctant to share with the Turks was his birthdate. He rejoined their ranks on November and no one thought of asking about his birthdate until the following year. The Turks were secretive about their personal lives, and at least half of the team was uncertain about their date of birth on account of being orphans, so it wasn’t exactly strange for them to be unconcerned with their new boss’s birthdate. However, Reno thought it important to celebrate Vincent’s first year with the group and the matter of his birthday came up then. True to his taciturn nature, the gunman refused to answer. Reno would’ve insisted but Tseng stopped him. The Wutain took the redhead aside to explain to him that Vincent might not be too keen on celebrating a birthday after everything Hojo and Lucrecia had put him through, so Reno dropped the subject—for the time being. 

Reno started a campaign to obtain the information he wanted. It would have taken him less than an hour to hack into the system to gain access to Vincent’s original Turks records but Turk code prevented him from doing so. Instead, he did everything he could to get into Vincent’s good graces—from little bribes in the form of chocolate and other sweets, to perfectly executed missions and reports delivered timely, he tried it all. He even wore his uniform properly once but Vincent ordered him to stop fooling around and just go back to his disheveled self. 

In the end, Reno got his information in an entirely unplanned manner. 

Vincent was forced to go on a field mission with the redheaded Turk the summer after his first year back with the Turks. They were to capture a runaway specimen from one of Hojo’s old labs near Cosmo Canyon and Vincent was the best tracker of them all; that, along with Reno’s speed, was sure to bring the mission to a quick and clean success. However, the specimen proved to be far too savage to capture so Vincent decided to eliminate it in order to prevent it from running amok in a populated area. In order to do so, he had to transform into Galian. 

The creature was quickly dealt with but Galian hadn’t been out in so long that it refused to obey Vincent’s commands to stand down. Chaos was forced to intervene and, although he quickly subdued the beast, the toll on Vincent’s body was too great and the gunman collapsed. 

To make matters worse, some poachers that had been trying to capture the escaped specimen caught sight of Galian and Chaos and tried to attack Vincent and Reno when the gunman returned to normal. Reno had no choice but to take the three men on his own, all the while keeping himself between them and Vincent to protect the older man. He emerged victorious without killing the poachers and then carried Vincent to Cosmo Canyon so he could rest. 

When he woke up the following day, Vincent was rather distressed about the troubles he caused to his companion. Reno jokingly said that all would be forgiven if Vincent just told him what his birthdate was. Surprisingly, the gunman didn’t hesitate to inform him that it was the 13th of October, but he did threaten Reno with bodily harm if the information ever left their department. Reno swore not to tell anyone outside the Turks and began planning a birthday party for Vincent. It had been a lot like their current reunion, the only difference being that Veld had left his cozy house in Costa del Sol to join them and Reno hadn’t cooked. 

“So, Bossman,” Reno drawled as he cleared the tables, “what’re your plans for your birthday this year?”

Vincent was helping Elena and Cissnei distribute the snacks and sweets around the tables when Reno asked and his first reaction was to snort. 

“None whatsoever,” he said. He settled on the floor again with a bag of blueberry filled truffles and a glass of non-alcoholic red wine from his pantry. 

“Leavin’ it all up to me again, yo?” 

“Sit down and let me tell you kids what’s going on with my life these days. _Then_ you’ll understand why my birthday is the least of my concerns this year. It might break our rule about not talking about work, but I’m afraid it can’t be helped.”

He explained to them everything related to Galian’s mating season and his attraction to Sephiroth. He told them of the dinner he shared with the General the night before and he did his best to convey his thoughts and feelings about the situation in a way that would make the most sense possible. He apologised about disappearing to Gast’s office without telling them what was going on and he told them of the tests that were done on him and the other two. When he reached the part of the story where his memories ended, he turned to Tseng.

“Chaos tells me that you might better fill that gap, Tseng. Before you do, though, he wishes me to thank you. You remained calm and corrected Sephiroth when he referred to Galian and Chaos as a _thing_. He feels very grateful and proud, as do I.”

Tseng shrugged. “There’s no need to thank me but you’re both welcome. It never crossed my mind that he’d never seen either of them before.”

“Soldier clearance on my files is rather low compared to what you have access to,” Vincent explained.

“I see. Well, as for what happened… I went to Gast’s office to check up on you in case you needed help getting back to your apartment after the tests.”

“I’m guessing you called ahead when you and possibly some of the others worried about my prolonged absence,” Vincent said with a knowing smirk.

“Yes. I’m sorry if it was insolence on our part, but—”

“Corvus, don’t. You know how I feel about that.”

“Right. Well, I was at the office when Galian went out of control according to Gast. I rushed in and Sephiroth followed, even though Gast didn’t want him to. It took Chaos some minutes to sort things out and, in that time, Galian lunged at Sephiroth. Chaos managed to regain control of your body then and forced Sephiroth out of the room. Gast and I got you dressed and I called Reno and Rude to help me get you here while Gast sorted out the injured orderlies. He said he’d prioritise your test results and that he would know something within forty-eight hours. He also asked me to make sure you didn’t go back to work right away and said he’d square things with Rufus and Lazard regarding the summit given that you can’t be near Sephiroth without Galian going ballistic.”

“I suppose I’m on extended and indefinite medical leave.”

“Yes. Also, Gast had Sephiroth move back in with his family so you wouldn’t run into each other in the building by accident.”

Vincent nodded as he munched on a truffle, strawberry-filled this time. 

Having Sephiroth living with his family made things a bit easier but it wasn’t by any means an ideal solution. Sephiroth’s work was mostly confined to Shinra HQ as was Vincent’s. Sure, he’d have to stay in his room for who knew how long but he’d have to come out eventually. He couldn’t hide behind a medical leave for long, either, not without attracting Heidegger and Scarlet’s attention. 

“We’ll take care of everything so that Gya-ha-ha and Kya-ha-ha can’t touch us, Vermeil.” 

“Rufus is sure to have our backs, too, Vince.”

“Professor Faremis will find a way to stabilise Galian’s impulses, Vale. We just need to be patient.”

“Even if he can’t, we’ll find a way around all of this, Deadeye.”

“So stop looking so worried, Vin-sama. We’ve got you covered.”

_As do I,_ Chaos chimed in. _Chin up, Host._

Vincent couldn’t help but smile. 

* * *

 

A few minutes passed in silence until Reno deemed it necessary to address the Adamantoise in the room.

“So, Galian’s got the hots for Sephiroth? What’s that all about, Vince?”

Rude and Cissnei burst out laughing while Tseng sighed and shook his head and Elena threw popcorn at the redhead.

“Why are you always so crass, Ren?”

Reno caught the popcorn in his mouth and swallowed before answering. “How’d you put it then, Bumblebee?”

“I _wouldn’t_ put it any way.”

“Oh, c’mon! You can’t tell me you’re not at least a little bit curious, yo.”

“You’re such a flibbertigibbet, Red,” Rude said.

“A _what?_ ” Reno spluttered. “How old are ya? A hundred, yo?”

“At least,” Vincent cut in. “That was _old_ before I joined the Turks.”

“Hey!” Rude protested.

That got everyone laughing and gave Vincent time to figure out how to answer Reno’s question.

_I suppose this is as good a time as any to let you know I think I have a pretty good idea of what’s going on now,_ Chaos said.

_And?_

Vincent went really quiet all of a sudden. When the others noticed, they looked at their boss and saw his eyes flicker from red to gold a few times. They knew from experience that this meant Vincent was having a conversation with Chaos so they stopped teasing each other and waited for him to speak.

Tseng was the first to break the silence when Vincent’s eyes settled back to warm crimson.

“What did Chaos say, Vincent-sama?”

“Galian is reacting to Jenova. Chaos doesn’t know how or why, but that’s what’s happening.”

“Well, fuck,” Reno said.

“That about sums it up,” Cissnei added.

“And to think I was going to follow Chaos’s advice and try to become friends with Sephiroth,” Vincent mused with a scornful smile. 

“It could still work, Vincent,” Elena said.

Vincent shook his head slowly. “I don’t know about that, Lena. I’ve a feeling things aren’t as simple as placating Galian’s instincts. They never are when Hojo and his sick mind are involved.”

“It’s too bad you can’t even talk on the phone, yo. I mean, Sephiroth must think you really don’t like ‘im or somethin’.”

“I tried to make it clear that’s not the case, but…” He frowned. “Do you think he might think so anyway?”

“Perhaps,” Rude said. “He’s the only person at Shinra that counts that you haven’t directly approached, for work or otherwise. Genesis, Kunsel, Cloud, and even Angeal have helped us.”

“But he’s sent him a birthday present the last couple of years,” Elena said.

“Not really,” Vincent corrected.

The blonde Turk blinked in confusion. “What do you mean? I wrapped that book on ancient swords two years ago and the incense kit last year.”

“And I delivered them both times,” Tseng added.

“But none of you checked the cards. I signed them for the entire department.”

A five-voice chorus erupted to question why the gunman had done that.

“I…” He sighed heavily. “I was a little afraid he wouldn’t appreciate receiving a present from me.”

None of his colleagues could really fault him for that so everyone went quiet for a moment. 

“You know you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but…” Tseng started cautiously. 

“How do _you_ feel about Sephiroth, yo?”

“And we don’t mean about his biological parents and what they did to both of you,” Cissnei added.

“We know it’s hard, but if you can forget about that, even for a moment, and focus just on Sephiroth…” Elena continued.

“You know we won’t judge, Vale.”

_Gaia, these children can read you like a book._

Ignoring Chaos’s commentary, Vincent closed his eyes and mulled the question over. If he was honest with himself, he had never thought ofSephiroth as anything other than Lucrecia’s hapless son, and he rarely thought of himself as anything other than a failed watchdog. He had failed the Turks and Shinra but, more importantly, he had failed Sephiroth. His entire existence while being locked up in the coffin had revolved around his feelings of inadequacy. 

Some of his self-loathing had disappeared upon taking the job of Head Turk—being amongst the few people he could count as family gave his life a renewed sense of purpose. Knowing that Sephiroth was alive and had grown up to be as normal as the experiments performed on him allowed should have eased the rest of his burdens but it hadn’t. The guilt was still there, the sense that he had failed the young man and he would never be able to make it up to him.

 But if he did as the Turks asked him to, if he ignored the guilt and the sense of failure and just concentrated on Sephiroth and what the man awakened in him… 

“He’s… breathtaking. I saw him training by himself once. I felt like crying... It’s not just that he’s physically attractive, which he is—the man is gorgeous. But there’s also this… _thing_ about him, a sort of captivating presence that has little to do with his appearance or his voice. He’s a leader, yes, and he has a strong will, strong enough to have overcome his biological handicaps _and_ to keep Jenova at bay. That alone is impressive, but…”

He sighed and buried his face in his hands. He had never been any good at voicing his feelings appropriately and he hadn’t gotten better at it over time. He felt that he was only making a fool of himself by trying. 

Cissnei climbed over Reno to get to Vincent’s side and rubbed the gunman’s left arm soothingly. Elena was already next to Vincent and she held on to his right arm, resting her head on his shoulder. Reno and Rude dragged the tables away while Tseng sat on the couch behind Vincent and massaged his shoulders. Rude squeezed himself between Vincent and the couch, allowing enough room for Tseng to continue his massage while the taller man stroked Vincent’s hair. Finally, Reno nestled himself between Vincent’s legs, taking the gunman’s arms and wrapping them around his waist while he rested his head against the other man’s chest. 

Vincent half-sighed and half-laughed, ruffling Reno’s fiery red hair before kissing the lithe Turk’s forehead. He then kissed Cissnei and Elena on the cheek before grabbing Rude and Tseng’s hands and kissing their knuckles. He allowed himself a few minutes to relish the sense of security and comfort the five people around him provided while trying to get his feelings and thoughts in order. 

“I want him to be safe,” he said after a stretch. “I feel I owe him that much, to be sure he’s safe and happy. There’s a part of me that wishes nothing more than to actually _be_ at his side to make sure he never has to suffer again at anyone’s hands, but…”

He looked at his hands on Reno’s lap and flexed them a few times. There were traces of chocolate and fruit juice in them, the contrast between the rich colours of his favourite treats and his alabaster skin stark. Although invisible, he could always see all the blood his hands had spilled, whether directly, through the barrel of a gun, or at Galian and Chaos’s hands. His fellow Turks would probably see the same in their own hands as well as in the hands of their partners. He had no delusions that Sephiroth’s hands were clean, not when he was Shinra’s prized General, but the quantity and quality of the blood on each of their hands was much too different. 

Reno ran his bony fingers along Vincent’s palms, tracing their folds and scars slowly. Vincent sighed softly at the soft and intimate contact, realising absently that only these five people surrounding him had ever touched him with such confidence and familiarity; not even his previous Turk partners had been this attached and devoted to each other. He idly wondered if he would ever allow anyone else such closeness. 

“I think I know what you’re thinking, Vince,” Reno said, “and you shouldn’t.”

Rude rested his chin on Vincent’s shoulder and sneaked a long arm around Vincent and Reno, pressing the redhead closer to Vincent and the gunman closer to him. When he spoke, Vincent could feel the other man’s breath tickling his neck. 

“If having your hands clean of blood is a prerequisite to allow yourself to know someone better, we would all be hermits, Vale.”

Elena curled up next to Vincent, squeezing his arm and tangling her right leg with the gunman’s. Reno giggled as he poked at the blonde’s thigh and got a slap to the wrist from the gunman for his trouble. The redhead pouted while Elena stuck her tongue out at him before addressing Vincent.

“You said you were afraid Sephiroth wouldn’t appreciate a present from you, but he wants to be friends with you. Last night he pretty much told you that he doesn’t care about what happened between you and his biological parents. If he’s willing to put all that aside and give you a chance, shouldn’t you try to do the same?”

“And don’t even start with all that nonsense about how you failed him and how you can’t protect anyone,” Cissnei said. She was leaning against Vincent in a position that nearly mirrored Elena’s on the other side. “You protect us every single day from Heidegger and Scarlet, not to mention from all the dangers _outside_ Shinra.”

Tseng caressed the back of Vincent’s neck, applying pressure to the tense muscle beneath his fingertips. 

“Sephiroth has a hard time understanding his own feelings,” the Wutain said, “so he’s always very careful about approaching other people. If he’s decided that he wants to get to know you better it means he’s weighed all the pros and cons and found that you are worth the effort.” A small smile made its way to his lips and even into his voice. “If he’d asked any of us, we would’ve vouched for you ten times over.”

Vincent took a deep breath and relaxed against Rude. 

“I told him a part of me thinks and even wishes he could’ve been my son. And it’s true, I spent a lot of time dwelling on what-ifs. What if I’d met Lucrecia sooner, what if she hadn’t met my father and didn’t feel so responsible for his death that she could barely stand my attentions. What if I had killed Hojo when I had the chance. What if I could have been there for Sephiroth while he was growing up.”

“You’re here now, Vale. You can be here for him now.”

“He wants you to, yo.”

“That just brings a brand new cluster of what-ifs, all far more daunting than the old ones.”

“Like what?” Cissnei asked.

“What if he’s reacting to whatever’s happening to me. What if his is just a fleeting fancy and by the time he realises it I’m too invested.” 

_What if you grow to love him not as your hypothetical son but as your lover. And what if he doesn’t feel the same. Can you live with a broken heart?_

“… I don’t know.”

“What’s that?”

Vincent blinked and looked questioningly into Rude’s eyes.

“You went quiet for a moment and then all you said was ‘I don’t know’.”

“Oh. Sorry. I was answering to something Chaos said. I must’ve been distracted and answered out loud.”

“What did he say, then?”

Vincent sighed, nuzzling Rude’s neck and taking in the other man’s scent, a mixture of cordite and ozone that wouldn’t leave the other Turk’s skin no matter how much he tried to get rid of it. 

“He voiced my greatest fears. What if I end up falling in love with Sephiroth and he doesn’t feel the same about me. _I don’t know_ meant I don’t know if I could stand it. Opening up to someone like that only to be rejected yet again… It could potentially end me. When Lucrecia turned me down the only reason I didn’t crumble down was Sephiroth.” A deep sigh interrupted his train of thought. “I would still have all of you, I know, but I think that, the part of me capable of falling in love with another would wither and die. 

“There is, of course, a more crucial issue here. A part of me doesn’t want to fall in love with him.”

“Why’s that?”

Vincent went very still and very quiet. Before anyone else could say anything, Tseng stood up and walked around the snug pile of bodies. He nudged Reno with his foot and the redhead scooted over to Elena’s side, pulling her back to his chest and holding on to her as a child to a teddy bear. Cissnei moved to the couch after Rude did the same and sat on his lap. This left Vincent on the floor with his legs spread in a V and Tseng knelt in that space, his knees barely touching Vincent’s thighs. 

The Wutain looked into his leader’s crimson eyes and knew what the problem was. He reached forward, wrapping his arms around Vincent’s shoulders and pulling him into a loose embrace, allowing the older man to decide how much contact he wanted, how much comfort. 

“You can’t taint someone by just loving them. Not when all you’ve ever wanted is for that person to be happy. Not when you sacrificed _everything_ to try to protect him. When Cloud found you, you could’ve refused to come back to Midgar but you didn’t. You came back to make sure he was safe, that he’d grown up to be a good man.”

“But I _failed_ him,” Vincent protested. He wrapped his arms around Tseng, his fingers clutching desperately at the Wutain’s shirt as he buried his face in the other man’s neck. “My infatuation with his mother blinded me to what she was trying to do with herself _and_ him. I hesitated and was unable to kill the bastard that wrecked my body and played god with his life before he could harm us. He says he doesn’t care but how can he not? How can he even stand to be in the same _building_ as I, let alone want to be _friends_? And knowing all of that, here I am, entertaining the idea of falling in love with him and wondering if he could ever feel the same about me! What kind of monster have I become?”

“You are _not_ a monster, _itoshii_. Don’t you _ever_ let any of us hear you say that again.” 

A four-voice chorus agreed with Tseng, Reno adding a few threats for good measure.

“As for the rest… I can’t tell you what Sephiroth’s thinking or feeling so I can’t give you any guarantees. But if you _do_ end up falling in love with him, it will be all you. Hojo, Galian, Chaos… none of them will have anything to do with it. It will be Vincent Valentine’s heart and nothing else. And whether or not Sephiroth falls in love with you, it will be all him and just him—not Jenova or anything else Hojo and Lucrecia did to him. 

“You’re a _good man_ , Vincent. All five of us know just how lucky anyone would be to have you as their lover. If Sephiroth doesn’t want that then it’ll be his loss. And whatever happens between you two, we’ll be here. You’re our family, Vincent, and all we want is for you to be happy.”

The other four gathered around Vincent and Tseng, wrapping their arms around them and kissing Vincent’s face, neck, and arms.

“We’ll be with you every step of the way, Vermeil.”

“Stop thinking you’re not good enough to be around him, yo.” 

“Give him a chance and let things progress naturally,” Rude said.

“Don’t give up without a fight,” Cissnei added.

“I can be your personal messenger while we wait for Gast to figure out a way to control Galian’s impulses,” Tseng offered. “Just take it slow and don’t let your past get in the way. Sephiroth obviously isn’t.”

Once again, Vincent couldn’t hold back the smile that curved his lips. It didn’t last long, though, as it was interrupted by a yawn. Looking at the clock on the wall, he realised it was past one in the morning.

“You’re all staying here,” he said. 

“Vincent-sama—” 

“I may be on medical leave, Corvus, but I’m still the boss of all of you. If you think you’re leaving me alone after all that’s going on, you better get a psych eval from Gast.”

“Oooh, domineering Vincent is such a turn-on,” Reno purred, nuzzling Vincent’s neck. 

“Don’t tempt me, Red.”

Reno grinned and planted a kiss on Vincent’s jawline, catching some skin between his lips and running the tip of his tongue over it. The deep rumble this earned him encouraged him togive the same treatment to the dark-haired man’s neck. Soon he could feel Vincent’s hands on his hips, and he didn’t need to open his eyes to know Elena and Cissnei were attacking Vincent from each side while Rude put his lips to good use on their boss’s ears. He also felt Tseng getting up to make sure the door was locked before returning to the pile of bodies to try to get a piece of Vincent. 

It wouldn’t be the first time the six of them ended in a ‘love-in’, as Vincent once called their meetings-turned-orgies. The first time had been nearly two years ago during the celebration of Vincent’s first year with the Turks. Reno and the other four were used to sleeping with each other to relieve tension or just to have fun, and all of them found their new leader attractive. They had refrained from making any advances before because they knew Vincent was still going through some biological adjustments after being in a coffin for thirty years and they didn’t want to push him into anything he wasn’t ready for. However, when Reno made his move and kissed Vincent full on the lips, he found himself caught between the couch and the gunman’s deceptively strong body. From then on, everything was a blur until he woke up the next afternoon, naked and pressed between Vincent and Rude with Tseng, Cissnei, and Elena close by, all of them naked, too. 

It was another Turks thing that no one outside the team would understand. But when one spent their days and nights chasing after rebel factions, catching spies and turncoats, carrying out assassinations and generally being the shady shield for the most powerful corporation on the planet, while at the same time trying to avoid getting killed by loathsome executives in the aforementioned company, one tended to dance dangerously over the line between heartlessness and despair. Only someone in the same position would understand; only a fellow Turk would know what it felt like to crave the reassurance that your humanity had not disappeared along with that last bullet fired, that last detonation, that last lie filtered to the right people. 

In Vincent’s case, he gave himself to the other Turks to remind himself that, in spite of the changes forced upon his body, in spite of Galian’s rampaging hormones and the uncertainty that harbouring Chaos gave rise to, he was still basically human. That he could feel something other than pain, that he could give something other than misery. 

He was dimly aware of the fact that Chaos disconnected from him, taking Galian’s still sleeping presence with him. The gunman smiled around Elena’s neck, thankful that the Weapon was allowing him this moment of privacy with his Turks. He didn’t have much time to dwell on it, however, as he was soon too busy keeping track of whose hands were pulling his sweatshirt off and whose lips were attached to his ears, neck, mouth, and chest. 

“Bedroom,” he managed to breath in between someone’s acidic kisses—Tseng’s, more likely than not. 

 “Aye,” came the five-voice chorus.

* * *

 

Noon came and Vincent woke up with Reno latched on to his right side, fiery-red locks tickling the gunman’s nose. Elena was clinging to his left side, safely tucked under his arm. Vincent himself was half-laying on Rude, his head resting on the man’s chest while his legs were over Tseng’s waist. Cissnei was cuddled up to Tseng, one of her feet hooked around one of Vincent’s legs. One of Rude’s arms was draped over Vincent’s chest, strong fingers curled up around his hip. 

There was no way Vincent could get up without disturbing most, if not all, of his partners, so he decided to stay put a little longer. Someone else had different plans, however, as his home phone started ringing almost as soon as he closed his eyes again. 

“’ma murder whoever’s on the fucking line, yo.”

Vincent chuckled and disentangled himself from the protesting bodies before throwing on his robe and padding over to his studio to take the call. 

“Director Valentine speaking.”

_“Good afternoon, Vincent. How are you feeling?”_

“Professor. I’m much better, thank you. Tseng told me about what happened in the exam room—my apologies.”

_“Glad to hear so. And don’t worry about that—the orderlies are fine and it wasn’t your fault. I should’ve told Toru to call Sephiroth and tell him not to stop by the office but I didn’t think it was necessary.”_

Vincent sat on his swivel chair and closed his eyes. He really didn’t want to talk about Sephiroth, not after the pleasant night he’d just had, but he really couldn’t tell that to Gast. Instead, he slightly changed topics.

“All right, then. Tseng also said you expected to have results in forty-eight hours. Have you made any progress?”

_“I have, yes. It’s the only reason I’m at the office on a Sunday, really.”_

Vincent frowned and took a sideways glance at his wall calendar. It was, indeed, Sunday. That meant he could probably coax the others into staying with him for a few more hours. He really didn’t feel like being alone at the time. 

“I see. Given that it’s a Sunday, can this wait until tomorrow?”

_“I’m afraid not, Vincent. I’m sure this is not what you wanted to hear, but Hojo and Jenova are involved in what’s happening to you.”_

Vincent sighed and brought a hand to his eyes. 

“So Chaos wasn’t far off, after all.”

_“What do you mean?”_

“Last night Chaos told me that he was fairly certain that Galian’s targeting Jenova, not Sephiroth. He doesn’t know how or why, though.”

_“I see. Well, I think I may provide at least a partial explanation to those two questions.”_

“I’m sorry to ask this, but do you think you could come over to my apartment in, say, two hours to talk about this? I want the Turks to know.”

_“Certainly. It will give me some time to do a bit more research into one of my hypotheses.”_

“Thank you, Professor. See you soon.”

He disconnected the call and set down the receiver gently. After sitting in near darkness for about five minutes, he stood up and went into the kitchen to make coffee and set the kettle to boil to make tea. Then he went into his bedroom to find all five of his subordinates asleep, cuddling together. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he stood against the doorframe and took a moment to take in the sight.

_You should take a picture._

_No need. Morning, by the way. I take it you listened to Gast’s call?_

_Yep. He sounded excited, didn’t he?_

_Yes. It’s never a good sign, an excited scientist with our tissue samples._

_Nope._

With a soft sigh, Vincent walked towards his bed and shook Elena awake first. 

“Morn’n, Vince,” she said after a luxurious stretch.

“Noon, Bushy-tail. Wake everyone up and then come help me make lunch, okay?”

“’Kay.”

Leaving the other four to the mercy of Elena’s relentless energy, Vincent took a quick shower. He had a feeling it would be a long day.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Japanese is... not good. All I know comes from anime, video games, and song lyrics. So if I made a mistake anywhere (or if I make them in the future) do let me know. I won't be offended, promise.


	6. Hojo's Horror Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Refusing to let Gast use him or Sephiroth and his friends as guinea pigs, Vincent embarks on a journey to Nibelheim to look for answers in Hojo’s hidden laboratory. The gruesome secrets he and his team find there are enough to make their blood boil, but they have little time to delve into the information they found. 
> 
> In their absence, a crisis has emerged inside Shinra, forcing them to rush back and leave their research behind for the time being.

Even if it was a Sunday and Vincent had told him the Turks would be with him, Gast was still mildly surprised when Rude opened the door to the Head Turk’s apartment not wearing his trademark black uniform but cargo pants and a black t-shirt; he was also barefoot and not wearing his characteristic sunglasses. There was a glass of orange juice on his left hand and a piece of toast between his teeth, which he quickly grabbed with his right hand oncehe closed the door behind Gast. 

“Good afternoon, Rude. How are your eyes today?”

Rude shrugged. “Not bad. Afternoon, by the way. Everyone’s in the kitchen or living room.”

“Late breakfast?”

“Sort of.”

Knowing how tight-lipped the Turks were when they didn’t want to explain themselves, particularly Rude, Gast decided not to pry. Instead, he followed Rude to the living room and wasn’t as surprised anymore when he saw the other five Turks out of uniform and drinking and eating various things, from tea and coffee to toast and fruit. Vincent was the only one not eating and drinking plain water, very cold judging from the droplets of moisture clinging to the glass he was using.  

“Good afternoon,” Gast called. After everyone returned his greeting, he turned to Vincent. “All done with your breakfast, Vincent?”

Vincent smiled but it was Elena that answered. 

“I made him waffles with fresh strawberries with a side of hash browns and bacon. He ate all of it with a cup of chai tea.”

“He had a good dinner last night, too,” Reno added.

“I was wondering how come you ate so much last night, Vincent.” Cissnei said.

“Too many transformations in a very short time,” Vincent said. “I burnt an excessive amount of calories and got hungrier than usual as a result. It’ll take me another day or two to recover and then it’s back to all of you patrolling my eating habits.”

“It will be easier with you in lockdown, yo.”

“Speaking of which…” Vincent said, looking at Gast.

The professor nodded. “Where should we do this?”

“Here’s fine. Rude, Tseng, would you bring some chairs from the kitchen?”

A few minutes later, Vincent was sitting on the couch between Tseng and Cissnei; Reno, Rude, and Elena were sitting on chairs from the kitchen set in front of the couch, while Gast sat on an armchair at the head of the coffee table. He was holding a tablet and had his briefcase open on the coffee table; several folders, loose papers, and a book lay inside the case along with a notepad and several pens and pencils. 

While Gast pulled up the files he needed on the tablet, Vincent reached for the book. It was an old, dog-eared copy on Cetran history apparently focused on flora and fauna. The gunman was about to set it down because the writing was too faded and in a very archaic Northern Continent dialect when he came across a drawing of a creature that looked a lot like Galian. It was far less humanoid than when Vincent transformed into the beast but the main features were the same: a purplish tone to the skin and some of the fur, large and dark horns, a greyish mane, and a cranial structure reminiscent of a behemoth’s. 

“That looks a lot like Galian,” Cissnei said to Vincent’s right. 

Gast looked up sharply and his expression turned grim. “I was hoping to ease you into that.”

“There’s no need to tip-toe around the subject, Professor. You already told me that Hojo is involved so I’m prepared for pretty much anything you might’ve found.”

Gast nodded and handed Vincent the tablet after setting up a playlist with two videos. 

“I’ll get to the book in a moment—you need to watch this first. The first video shows Galian’s cells interacting with a sample of Jenova cells. The second one shows an interaction between Chaos and Jenova.”

Vincent played the first video with all five Turks huddled around him to be able to watch. 

In the first video, the Jenova sample stood by its own for a few seconds before Galian’s cells were added to the petri dish. Almost immediately after, Galian began to quiver before zeroing in on Jenova. In a blur of movement, Galian’s cells lunged towards the alien cells and began ripping into them. Through it all, Jenova didn’t move or change in any way.

“Are they… _eating_ Jenova, yo?”

“Bluntly speaking, yes,” Gast said. “Keep watching.”

The video ended when Galian’s cells finished absorbing—or eating—Jenova’s. At first, it seemed as though Galian’s cells had only expanded after consuming Jenova, but after a few seconds they began oxidising and eventually died.

“What the _fuck_ , yo!”

“Calm down, Reno,” Vincent said softly.

“I’ll explain after you watch the next video,” Gast said, not bothering with admonishing Reno for his language.

The second video started much like the first, with Jenova’s cells sitting alone in the petri dish. A few seconds passed and, suddenly, the cells began to quiver and retreat towards the walls of the dish. Then Chaos’s cells were inserted unto the dish from the right side, forcing Jenova to retreat to the opposite side. Chaos just sat there for some seconds and all the while Jenova’s cells bunched up as far away from the other cells as they could. 

“There,” Tseng said, pointing to the side of the dish where Chaos’s cells were. 

“It’s trying to catch Jenova unawares,” Cissnei said.

The cluster of Chaos’s cells had stealthily divided in two, one section staying put while the other slithered along the edge of the petri dish in two directions, effectively cornering Jenova and forcing it to move towards the other section of Chaos’s sample. It took about twenty seconds, but eventually Chaos forced Jenova into the centre of the dish and completely surrounded it. Jenova’s cells were moving rapidly in place and seemed to bubble up. Little by little, the greyish mass of Jenova cells turned into the nearly black shade of Chaos’s cells. By the end of the video, Jenova had been completely wiped out by Chaos, leaving nothing behind. 

Without a word, Vincent replayed both videos twice. When the second video ended again, he silently passed the tablet back to Gast and waited for the professor to explain what they had all just witnessed.

“Jenova doesn’t seem to react to Galian, at least not to this version of it.”

“Him,” Vincent corrected.

“All right: him. As you can see, Jenova stood there and did nothing to try to escape or defend itself when Galian attacked it. Galian, on the other hand, didn’t hesitate to assault Jenova. He succeeded in absorbing it and neutralising it as a threat, but he was unable to stop Jenova from killing him afterwards.

“That aside, this is just a cellular-level interaction. In such a situation, all Galian can do is absorb Jenova—eat it, like Reno said. On a larger scale there are more options.”

“Killing it would be the most logical route,” Elena said.

“But Vincent said Galian wants to _mate_ ,” Rude added.

Gast gave the dark-haired man a questioning look that Vincent met evenly.

“They know everything I do about this matter. So, like I said, there’s no need to tip-toe around the issue.”

The professor looked at each Turk in turn and found nothing more than attention. Not wanting to delve into Turk psychology, he decided to go on.

“You’re right, Elena. In a natural setting, if Galian were to meet Jenova face-to-face, he would try to kill it.” 

He reached for the book that Vincent had set back on the coffee table and handed it to the blonde Turk while he took his notepad, flipped to the page he wanted, and gave it to Vincent. The gunman read the passage twice, his frown deepening with each line he read. 

“What is it?” Cissnei asked.

“It says Galian’s race once numbered in the thousands. They lived mainly in the Northern Continent and were loyal to the Cetra. When Jenova crashed, the Galians didn’t trust it but, since the Cetra did, they couldn’t attack it. Once Jenova showed its true colours and began killing the Cetra, Galian’s race was free to act on their instincts and helped weaken Jenova. They payed a high cost, though, given that apparently the entire race was wiped out.”

“Wait. How come you have Galian with you, then?” Reno asked.

“That I’m not sure about,” Gast said. “My best guess is that Hojo must have gone back to the area where we found Jenova and got his hands on a Galian specimen that he later grafted onto Vincent.”

“That doesn’t explain why Galian wants to mate with Sephiroth.”

 “Jenova wasn’t complete when they found it but its very nature allows it to preserve itself under the roughest of circumstances. I doubt Galian’s race had that ability, so whatever Hojo found must have been in an advanced state of decay, even with the aid of permafrost. In order to reconstruct it and bring it to a level where it could be viable to graft it onto me he must have tampered with it, possibly adding behemoth DNA. Behemoths have distinct mating seasons, and mating and killing are all about control and dominance. It’s not strange, then, that Galian’s impulse to kill Jenova got twisted into an instinct to mate with it.”

Everyone looked at Vincent like he’d just grown a second head. With a faint blush, he shrugged and explained himself.

“My father had a degree in Genetics, so he kept a lot of books and medical journals on the subject. I was often home alone so I read them all. Also, Chaos has been running some analyses of his own since yesterday so he came to more or less the same conclusions as I.”

“And I,” Gast admitted. “Unfortunately, there’s no way to be certain about this because Hojo didn’t think to leave any specific records of what he did to you.”

“I don’t really care about that. Can Galian’s impulses be controlled?”

“I don’t know,” Gast admitted. “Frankly, I don’t think so. You say you don’t care about how Hojo did it but I think it’s important. Otherwise I’ll be forced to experiment until I find the right combination of hormone replacement therapy to eliminate Galian’s impulses.”

“Can’t you just, I dunno, cut ‘im outta Vincent, yo?”

“Again, I don’t think so. The reason we never tried is that we don’t know what removing Galian or Chaos will do to Vincent. It could kill him or leave him severely incapacitated, at the least.”

_We can wait it out,_ Chaos said. _You can work from here and Sephiroth can stay at his parents’ until it passes. After the summit, we can go back to Nibelheim and see if Cloud and Kunsel missed anything. Some of Hojo’s notes mentioned a cellar that connected to the sewer system that came all the way down from the reactor up in Mount Nibel._

“What’s Chaos saying?” Tseng asked.

“He says we can work around it until the summit passes. After that, he says we should go back to Nibelheim and check an old cellar that connects to the reactor through the sewer system. Hojo mentioned it in some of his private journals, so he might have stashed notes there to keep the company from finding them.”

“Sounds like a good idea, given what you saw in the second video.”

“What _was_ that?” Elena asked.

“That was Chaos neutralising a threat to the Planet,” Gast explained. “At least that’s what Ifalna and Aerith concluded.”

Vincent drew in a sharp breath and went very still. 

_Easy. It was to be expected._

“Sephiroth knows, doesn’t he?” Vincent asked tersely.

“Yes,” Gast admitted. “I had to tell him. I know you probably didn’t want him to know, but—”

“Like Chaos just told me, I should’ve expected it.”

The Turks all looked like they wanted nothing more than to comfort Vincent—and hurt the professor, some of them—, but they knew he wouldn’t want them to do so with Gast present. As difficult as it was for them, they remained in their seats and waited for him or Gast to resume the conversation. 

“What else did they have to say about it?” Vincent asked after a long pause.

“As I’m sure you all know, Chaos is part of a binary Weapon system designed by the Planet to preserve the constant circulation of life. Basically, when the Planet itself is nearing its final stages, it will call forth Chaos so that he may send all living things back to the Lifestream. Omega, the other Weapon, would then gather the entirety of the Planet’s Lifestream—that is, its soul—and take off into the cosmos to find a new world in which to restart the cycle of life. As part of his duties, Chaos is also in charge of ensuring the purity of the Planet’s soul, meaning he has the necessary strength and abilities to destroy any alien matter within the Lifestream or the surface of the Planet.”

“That’s why it was able to eliminate those Jenova cells completely without dying, unlike Galian,” Tseng said. 

“Yes. Again, this is all on a cellular level so there’s no way to know how the interaction would play out with complex organisms.”

Vincent frowned and directed an unfriendly glare to the professor.

“That’s why you sounded so excited earlier on the phone. You’ve no idea what to do about Galian but you’re itching to get your hands on Chaos and experiment with him to cure Sephiroth and the other two.”

Gast looked taken aback. He had anticipated that Vincent wouldn’t agree right away to further experimentation but he hadn’t expected him to be so hostile towards the idea, either. 

“Vincent, I assure you—”

“How are you even going to do that?” Vincent interrupted. “You know damn well I’m not going to let you use any of them as guinea pigs.”

“We still have Jenova’s main body. We can use that as a base, replicate Hojo and Hollander’s experiments on laboratory-grown tissue to prove our theories.”

“That’s not going to work,” Vincent insisted. “Jenova’s very nature precludes the possibility of duplicating an experiment’s results exactly. That’s why Hojo’s plan to breed an entire army of Sephiroths failed.” 

“We have to try! Genesis continues to deteriorate and Sephiroth heard Jenova’s voice again yesterday at the labs.”

“It must have been reacting to Galian and Chaos. Sephiroth didn’t succumb to its call so don’t try to use that to sway me, Professor.”

“What about Genesis, then? If Chaos can purge Jenova from his body then his healing rate should go back to normal and he’d feel better.”

“ _Should_? And what if it kills him? Are you willing to shoulder that?”

“Are you willing to shoulder his death if we do nothing and his body continues to decay?”

“Do _not_ try to blackmail me,” Vincent said, some of Chaos’s otherworldly rumble mingling with his voice. “You’ve always had my full cooperation, Professor, but only because you’ve always had the data to prove to me that your experiments wouldn’t harm anyone. You don’t have that right now. All you’ve shown me is that Galian can get rid of Jenova at the cost of his life and that Chaos can eliminate pure Jenova cells—you don’t know what will happen to hybrid tissue. I’m not willing to let you poke at Galian anymore to send him into some stupid suicide mission and I’m not letting you play around with Chaos when you have no idea what removing Jenova entirely out of those three men will do to them in the short and long term.”

“Even if they’re fully aware of the risks and are willing to try?”

Vincent recoiled as if he’d been struck, finding himself at a temporary loss of words. Picking up on this, Tseng spoke up.

“Did Sephiroth volunteer?”

“Not exactly,” Gast said. “But I know him, and I know he’ll be willing to try anything that might lead to a cure for Genesis and himself. I’m sure Angeal and Genesis will feel the same way.”

“You realise what you’re asking of me?” Vincent managed to say. 

“Ifalna drew us a pretty clear picture,” Gast answered. “When Sephiroth realised she and Aerith have known about Chaos’s power over Jenova since you came back he was quite upset at them for not saying anything. Ifalna made him understand that there’s never been a guarantee that we’ll able to find a way to exploit Chaos’s abilities to purge Jenova from his body. Also, as you have pointed out, there’s no way to know what its absence will do to anyone who carries its cells.”

He paused and took his glasses off, pinching the bridge of his nose before continuing. 

“She also anticipated your reaction. She was certain you’d hesitate to cooperate because you literally sacrificed your life in order to try to save Sephiroth from Hojo and Lucrecia, so why would you agree to something that can potentially kill him now?”

“What did Sephiroth say to all that?” Cissnei asked.

Gast put his glasses back on and smiled sadly as he answered.

“Not a lot, really. He was slightly more preoccupied with trying to make sense of his feelings overall.”

Vincent looked up sharply at the professor.

“Feelings? You mean his wish to become friends with me?”

“Aerith and Ifalna seem to think he wants more than that but the truth is he’s not sure himself. He wants an opportunity to talk things over with you but, in order for that to happen, we have to figure out a way to suppress Galian’s impulses.”

The Head Turk brought a hand to his forehead and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He felt the familiar warmth that signalled Galian’s excitement course through his entire body and he had to fight back the wave of nausea that came with it. 

Noticing Vincent’s distress, Elena rushed to the kitchen for a bottle of cool water. Tseng made room for Gast to approach Vincent and the professor checked his temperature and heart rate manually. 

“Talk to me,” Gast said. 

Vincent shook his head quickly and regretted it almost immediately when he felt his breakfast trying to come out the same way it had gone in. He fought back the impulse to vomit and shakily accepted the water bottle Elena offered him, instantly grateful for the cool sensation against his overheated skin. Gently pushing Gast away, Vincent drank almost the entire bottle in a single go, sighing deeply and breathing heavily when he was finished. 

“Can you talk now?” Gast asked.

After a couple of false starts, Vincent managed to answer.

“Galian. He got… nggh… excited when you mentioned… your son. Chaos is trying to get him back to sleep.”

“So now we can’t even mention him or Galian goes berserk, yo?”

“It appears… so,” Vincent panted.

“Forget Chaos’s plan to wait,” Rude said. “We have to go to Nibelheim right away.”

“I’ll go,” Reno said. “Like I told Tseng yesterday, I’m not involved with the summit planning and I’m not on Avalanche duty.”

Vincent nodded slowly. He thought about it for a moment before slipping into business mode.

“We’ll leave tomorrow morning, then. Tseng, where is Cloud stationed right now?”

“Wait,” Gast said. “You’re not planning to go to Nibelheim, are you, Vincent?”

“Of course I am. There are no maps or blueprints of the sewer system and Hojo was quite creative when it came to hiding places for his notes and experiments. I don’t doubt Reno and Cloud will find the cellar on their own but it will go by much faster if I’m there to help.”

“But your condition—”

“Only presents itself when I’m close to your son or when he’s mentioned. There’s no real way to avoid the latter but the former is easily remedied if I’m in an entirely different continent. As long as there’s cold water nearby I should be fine.”

“And if you’re not? What if you collapse or lose control of Galian?”

“Cloud and I can handle him,” Reno said. 

“You can give Reno the tranquillisers you used on Galian yesterday, too,” Vincent added.

Gast looked at the redhead and saw nothing but fierce determination in his green eyes. When he turned to look at Vincent, he found the same. Knowing arguing was futile, he sighed and slumped on the armchair.

“Fine. Even if you’re still on medical leave I know there’s nothing I can do to stop you.”

Tseng had disappeared briefly into Vincent’s studio and returned with the gunman’s tablet. After logging in to his account, he located the necessary information.

“Cloud is in Rocket Town on a low level mission. Do you want me to send a message to Lazard asking for Cloud’s help?”

“Yes. Tell him Reno can fly a replacement for Cloud early tomorrow.”

“On it.”

“What’s Rufus’s schedule for the next three or four days?” 

“He’ll be in town the whole week,” Tseng said as he typed. 

“Good. Then you can man the office and Cissnei can stay on top of Avalanche with Elena and Kunsel’s help. Rude, I’m afraid you’ll be left with most of the field work.”

“No problem, Boss.”

“We will be.” 

Vincent exhaled slowly and looked towards Gast.

“Is there anything else, Professor?”

“Not for now, no. I’ll call it a day and leave the rest of the tests for tomorrow. Call me if you find anything.”

“Certainly. Thanks for stopping by and have a good day.”

“No problem. You, too.”

Rude walked Gast to the door and locked up as soon as the scientist was out in the hall. He then rushed back to the living room and found Vincent kneeling on the floor, breathing heavily and bracing himself on the coffee table. Tseng was on his right side, supporting some of the gunman’s weight while rubbing wide circles on his back. Rude could hear their second-in-command whispering something in Wutain on Vincent’s ear, apparently a calming mantra or maybe even a lullaby. 

Reno was perched on the back of the couch, typing away at Vincent’s tablet; Rude was fairly sure he was making arrangements so that a helicopter would be ready for them first thing the next morning. Elena and Cissnei were on the chairs in front of the coffee table, looking on worriedly as Vincent struggled to get his breathing back to normal. 

“He was putting on an act for Gast,” Cissnei said softly. “As soon as he was gone…”

“Chaos said something to him but we don’t know what,” Elena said.

“Prob’ly offered to take over, yo,” Reno said as he tossed the tablet on the couch. “Everything’s ready for tomorrow.”

“Good,” Vincent managed. 

“Shh, don’t talk, _itoshii._ You need to rest up if you’re going to make that trip tomorrow.”

“I should go with them,” Rude said.

Vincent shook his head but wasn’t able to say anything. Tseng looked up at Rude and also shook his head.

“Three Turks away from headquarters on a possible wild goose chase will attract too much attention. Not even Gast would be able to cover for us. If it’s just Reno then I’ll be able to better answer to anyone who thinks to pry. We’ll just tell everyone that Vincent is still on medical leave and can’t be disturbed; that ought to buy us time.”

Rude nodded and sat on the armchair Gast had been using before. He waited in silence along with everyone else for a few minutes until Vincent’s breathing evened out and he was able to sit on his haunches. He was sweating and his pale skin was flushed but his eyes were clear. Cissnei passed him a bottle of water and he drank all of it more calmly than the previous time. He leaned against Tseng once he was done, apparently too tired to stay upright. The Wutain wrapped an arm around the gunman’s waist and pulled him close, tucking Vincent’s head under his chin. 

“I think we need to get you back to bed, _itoshii_.”

“I don’t think I can stand.”

Rude took that as his queue and gently picked Vincent up, careful not to jostle him up. He then took him to his bedroom and tucked him under the covers. The other four Turks followed and stood by the doorway while Rude tended to Vincent. 

“Stop looking at me like I’m dying,” Vincent said, already sounding a lot better. “It just takes a lot out of Chaos to keep Galian under control and even then the hot flashes hit me almost full-on. I’ll be fine as soon as Galian falls asleep again.”

“All right. We’ll be here all day so if you need something, Vincent-sama, just give us a yell.”

“We’ll spend the night again, too,” Elena said.

“I need one of you to stay with me,” Vincent said. 

“I’ll do it,” Rude said. “My eyes are killing me.”

Vincent nodded and lifted the covers so Rude could join him. The rest left and closed the door.

Vincent cuddled up to Rude and the taller man tucked the gunman’s head under his chin much like Tseng had done before in the living room. 

“Rest up, Boss. We’ve got you.”

“I know. Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

Vincent hadn’t returned to Nibelheim since Cloud found him at Shinra Manor and he wasn’t particularly thrilled to be back. The place brought back a myriad of memories, many of which he didn’t want to rehash. Everywhere he turned on their way through the reconstructed town was a scene from his first stint as a Turk. The well under which he stood while Lucrecia and Hojo embraced one another passionately under the town’s entry sign; the Strife household where Cloud’s mother, now deceased, sheltered him from a storm with a warm bowl of homemade soup; the inn to which he retired after Lucrecia turned him down. 

Save the well, all of the buildings had been either partially or entirely rebuilt after the fire that took the life of Cloud’s mother, but Vincent’s memories didn’t care. They continued to attack him, demanding his attention. That was why he was reluctant to check in at the inn but Reno was under strict orders from Tseng that they should stop, eat, and rest for a couple of hours before tackling the sewer system. Since Cloud sold his house after the fire, the inn was their only option. Cloud wasn’t particularly happy about it, either, but the redheaded Turk was no pushover so they followed his lead on the matter.

It was nearly three in the afternoon when the two Turks and the Soldier Second Class reached the hidden passageway in the manor’s basement that led to the sewer system connecting the town to the mako reactor up in Mt. Nibel. Even though Cloud and Kunsel had searched the basement up and down twice, they never came across the door. Vincent himself would had missed it now if Chaos hadn’t directed him to it.

_I took over and wandered around the place once or twice in the first year or so_ , he explained. _I managed to open the door but I didn’t go very far into the tunnel. I was anchored to this place, somehow. I was planning to try again but either Hojo or one of his aides came back and locked the door from the outside._

Vincent was certain Hojo had found a way to bind him to the basement in case he woke up with enough strength to try to escape. It was likely he noticed that Chaos had been wandering about so he then decided to go for something much more archaic, like a bolt and key. His mind insisted on coming up with an explanation to the madman’s actions but he refused to dwell on it. He had a feeling he would find the answer to that and many other questions plaguing his mind once they found the cellar. The more he thought about it, the heavier the possibilities weighed on his mind. 

They’d been walking along the tunnel for about ten minutes when they arrived to a two-way fork in the road. 

“I suppose you don’t want us to split up, Bossman.”

“Preferably not.”

_Go left. I can feel something in that direction._

“Chaos thinks we should go left.”

“A’ight, yo.”

Every time they came to an intersection, Chaos would feel out the options and tell them which path to take. In case they had to go back, Cloud made a map on his PDA as they went along. They eventually came to what appeared to be a dead end but further inspection showed that the roof had collapsed some time ago, blocking the way. The men were forced to take out their collapsable shovels and dig a way through the obstruction. It took them nearly an hour but their efforts were rewarded when they found a rusted door right behind the rubble. 

“Something tells me the roof didn’t collapse accidentally,” Cloud pointed out.

“Crafty bastard,” Reno mumbled.

Without a word, Vincent tested the door. The hinges squeaked in protest when he applied minimal pressure to the centre of the door, giving him enough confidence to ram the door with his left shoulder twice. This sent the door tumbling inwards, revealing a large underground library encircling a laboratory of sorts. Stepping into the room, Vincent felt around for a switch on the walls and found a button that brought the lights to life with a crackling buzz. 

“Let me rephrase that,” Reno snarled. “ _Gruesome_ son of a _bitch_.”

There were two examination tables in the centre of the room, both stained with blood and who knew what else. Several carts, trays, and cabinets filled with surgical equipment and drugs were set around the tables; some of the cabinets were open or missing, and there was a lot of broken glass on the floor. Three conservation tanks were mounted on the far wall; one of them had been broken from the inside, the second was empty and apparently undamaged, while the last one was filled with mako syphoned directly from the reactor. Inside this last tank floated the remains of a small behemoth-like creature; a closer look showed that it was a mixture of at least three different samples, sown and stapled together in an attempt to hold its shape. 

Vincent approached the tank and pressed his palm against it. The creature inside twitched and floated towards the glass, pressing itself against the shape of the gunman’s hand. It scratched feebly at the glass before resting its forehead against it in apparent defeat.

“Is that…?” Reno couldn’t bring himself to voice the question.

“Galian.” Gold flashed across Vincent’s eyes as Chaos explained it to him. “Rather, whatever’s left of the Galian specimen Hojo found and as many as three different breeds of behemoth.”

“How is it still alive?” Cloud asked. “I mean, even with the mako…”

“I don’t know, but he’s in agony,” Vincent said softly. “And we’ll have to take him back with us.”

Reno and Cloud exchanged an uneasy glance before silently deciding it would be best if they got started on the many books, notebooks, and files on the shelves. Vincent remained by the tank a while longer, looking at the creature inside with pity and some degree of compassion.

_Can Galian sense it?_

_No. He’s so deeply asleep he won’t bother us. Besides, there’s not enough of Galian left in that sample, really. But it might help Gast find out what’s driving his impulses._

_Over thirty years, Chaos. This poor creature has been sitting here for over thirty years, alone, afraid, in pain._ He paused before adding, _A lot like us._

_Which is why we’ll take it back with us and make sure its suffering isn’t in vain. But this is only part of what we came for, so put yourself together and help Blaze and Chocobuckle sort through Professor Deranged’s squiggles._

A small smile tugged at Vincent’s mouth but he sighed sadly as he stepped away from the tank. Ignoring the examination tables and all the equipment around them, he went to the largest section of bookcases. There were a lot of books on the Cetra that he decided not to bother with but he did take a few about behemoth behaviour in case Gast needed the reference. Other than that, nothing in that section seemed to have been written by Hojo so he moved along to the next area. 

He was scanning through a book on gene splicing when he heard Cloud curse. 

“What is it?” he asked, not daring to move from his spot.

“That sick motherfucker had a depraved sense of humour.”

Each step taking more determination than the last, Vincent forced himself to approach the blond man. When he was a couple of feet away, he saw that Cloud was holding a binder and looking at it with contempt. 

The blond handed the binder to Vincent. “I only looked at the first page—it has a copy of your resumé and a picture of you. I… I don’t think I have a right to read the rest.”

The binder was labelled ‘Fail-Safe’. Vincent caught on to the meaning behind Cloud’s comment about Hojo’s sense of humour when he remembered that the young Soldier told him he’d had to find clues all over the manor to put together the combination to the safe on the second floor. Other than a monster that was likely part of Hojo’s side projects, the safe contained the key to the room Vincent was locked in. 

“ _Fail-Safe_ ,” Vincent read out loud. “So that’s what he called me.” He took the binder in less than steady hands and nodded slowly. “Thank you, Cloud. Where did you find it?”

The blond Soldier pointed to a small file cabinet wedged between two bookshelves. “There’s nothing else inside, though.”

The gunman checked, all the same, but Cloud was right. He looked at the bookshelves on either side of the cabinet and noticed they all contained notebooks and files written by Hojo and his assistants. He asked the blond to gather everything and put it in one of the cabinet’s drawers to make it easier to transport them. He then went to Reno, who looked disgusted by the book he held.

“What did you find, Reno?”

“Some sort of encyclopaedia, Bossman. Except it’s a compilation of Greasy McFugly’s early experiments.”

He turned the book towards Vincent; it was open to an entry about the ‘successful’ offspring of a Razor Weed and a Touch Me. The resulting hybrid was a toad with a mane of grassy spikes on its head that, according to the caption, could be thrown at the enemy to inflict an array of status ailments. 

“Does it say anywhere what happened to those experiments?”

“No, but I know Soldier was ordered to dispose of a lot of them when they raided the Science Department’s hidden labs. I’ve no idea if they got ‘em all, though.”

“Bring the book along, then. Lazard must have some database compiled that can be cross-referenced to this book.”

“Got it.” 

After closing the book and tossing it in a small pile he’d been putting together, Reno finally noticed the binder under Vincent’s arm.

“What’s that, yo?”

“Well, the good Professor was kind enough to put together a file on yours truly. I haven’t read it yet so I don’t know what’s in it, but I have a feeling it’ll be more than I want to know.”

Reno winced. “Oh. Are we still going through the rest of this stuff?”

“Yes. I don’t fancy a return trip.”

“Hear, hear.”

* * *

 

It took them about an hour to pack everything they deemed important enough to take back to Midgar, including the specimen on the tank. Additionally, Vincent had Cloud take pictures of the books they were leaving behind in case Gast or anyone else back at headquarters had use or interest in them. They were about to decide who would carry what back to town when a shiver ran all through Cloud’s body, making him knock over an empty vial off a table.

“What’s wrong, yo?”

Rubbing his upper arms, Cloud shook his head slowly. “I just felt a chill. Is there a draft?”

Standing behind Cloud, Vincent nodded. “Yes. There must be another door somewhere.” 

Following the draft led them to an empty bookcase. Reno and Cloud pulled it away from the wall and, sure enough, there was another door behind. Unlike the door leading to the laboratory, this one was made of wood and didn’t seem rotten enough to push or kick open. It had three sets of locks and a large bar across the middle.

“Shiva’s Veil, don’t tell me we have to hunt for clues to find a safe to get a key to open the damned door!” Cloud said.

Reno giggled and brought out a lock picking kit from his jacket. “Calm down, blondie. I got you covered.”

It took Reno less than five minutes to pick the lock. Pulling the door open turned out to be more difficult; whatever material Hojo had chosen for the door was heavy and had swollen with damp. 

“Pity those company issued haversacks don’t come with axes or hatchets,” Reno grunted as he pushed the door with all his strength.

“No, but…” 

Vincent stopped pushing and brought out his shovel. He told the others to move aside and began hitting the bottom of the door with the shovel. The concrete gave way, old as it was, and Vincent tried the same with the sides of the door. As it turned out, the laboratory’s walls were nothing but tightly packed dirt and, overtime, it had weakened significantly. With a triumphant smile, Vincent told Reno and Cloud to get their shovels and start chipping away at the door’s frame. Within minutes they’d knocked down enough dirt that pushing the door was a lot easier. 

The door led into a corridor so narrow that the three men had to walk in single file along it. There were no lights along the corridor so Vincent, being the tallest of the three, took the rear and used his flashlight to light the way in front of Cloud. Reno had his hand on Cloud’s shoulder and Vincent had his free hand on Reno’s shoulder to keep from stumbling into each other; Cloud was holding his sword with one hand and using the other to feel along the wall for any possible detours. 

A few feet in, Cloud stopped abruptly, causing Reno to crash into his back with a curse while Vincent managed to stop in time to avoid running into the redhead.

“What the hell, yo? Why’d you stop like that?”

Unable to speak, Cloud hastily walked into the room in front of him and fumbled with a light switch to his left. When he managed to flip it, the room lit up with a rumbling sound that was accompanied by the buzzing of electrical equipment. Reno and Vincent stepped into the room and were at a loss for words, too.

It was much smaller than the laboratory they came from and, unlike it, the walls and floor were lined with metal plates. There was a main console in the centre with several monitors and a keyboard. The monitors, however, were all smashed in and were smeared with dry blood, like the keyboard and the swivel chair that sat in front of the panel. A tattered lab coat rested on the back of a chair, clearly forgotten by its owner. 

All around the room were shelves filled with video and audiotapes, each neatly labelled and apparently in good condition, except for those that had been knocked to the floor and trampled over. Tracks of dried blood and something that lost its colour long ago passed over the tapes and disappeared under one of the panels. 

“I thought I saw someone,” Cloud whispered, “but I think it was just the lab coat casting weird shadows.”

“Those tracks… there’s another room somewhere,” Reno said, also in a whisper.

Without a word, Vincent followed the tracks and stood in front of the panel under which they disappeared. 

_At least whatever it was came_ out _and didn’t go in there,_ Chaos pointed out.

_Look at the tracks,_ Vincent said.

There was a pause as Vincent stared at the tracks and Chaos took them in. The Weapon’s outraged cry made Vincent stumble back a step. 

“What is it, yo?”

“Take a closer look at the tracks.”

Reno and Cloud exchanged another uneasy look and knelt to do as Vincent said. It took them longer than Chaos, but eventually they stood up, looking disgusted and shocked.

“Please tell me that it was a Goblin or a chimp or something,” Cloud said.

“McFugly didn’t believe in pre-human experimentation, yo.”

Vincent felt around the wall until he found a groove. He pulled on it and a small panel opened up with controls to the door. The gunman wasn’t too surprised to find that they worked and the metal plate disappeared into the floor. The pungent scent that wafted into the room hit Vincent full on, making him gag and cough as he took a few steps back, covering his mouth and nose with his hand. Neither of the other men in the room needed to ask what was wrong this time as the odour soon made its way towards them. Luckily, the way the cellar and sewers were built allowed for most of the noxious air to be sucked out in a few seconds, leaving behind just a trace that was easier to ignore. All the same, Vincent and Reno fished out mint gel from their pockets and applied it under their nostrils; Reno then passed his to Cloud.

Once he was sure he wouldn’t throw up, Vincent steeled himself and entered the adjoining room. It was about the same size as the lab/library but far ghastlier. The lights were already on so Vincent didn’t need to bother with that, which ended up being a good thing because he found that he couldn’t move.

The far back was lined with conservation tanks, all but four of them undamaged and still filled with mako. There were labels on the four broken tanks and Vincent didn’t need to get closer to read what they said. When he saw Reno trying to get closer, he grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Don’t go further in. You’ll disturb the scene and I’m afraid we’ll need to take pictures.”

“Do we really?” Cloud asked from behind both men, not wanting to go inside. “This…”

“Gast will need it,” Vincent said even as he turned to leave. “We’ll get it done tomorrow, though. We all need to rest.”

Neither Reno nor Cloud protested and were quick to follow Vincent out of the cellar.

_That_ **swine** _,_ Chaos grumbled as they left. _If I could pluck his loathsome soul from the Lifestream and strand him here before Omega took off it wouldn’t be punishment enough._

_You know what the truly terrible thing is?_

_What?_

_Even if he’s dead, he’s the only one who can fix the mess he made._

_Hn._

* * *

 

As soon as they stepped into the manor’s foyer, Vincent’s phone began to ring. The caller ID told him it was Tseng and, for some reason, that made him uneasy.

“Tseng? Is everything all right?”

_“Where were you? I’ve been calling all day but none of you were answering.”_

“The sewer system runs deep. We probably didn’t get any reception until we stepped out.”

_“Oh. Well, did you find anything?”_

“Yes, but we’re not done. We’ll need to go back in tomorrow to search at least two more rooms.”

_“I see.”_

Vincent frowned and stopped walking. They were already on the dirt road that led to the city’s main square. Cloud and Reno stopped, too, leaving their boxes on the ground.

“What is it, Tseng?”

The Wutain’s sigh was long and laboured. _“There was a meeting today about the summit. Rufus, Lazard, Gast, Reeve, Scarlet, Heidegger, and I were there. Word about your medical leave had already spread by then and I don’t exactly know what Gast told Rufus and Lazard but they decided to pull Sephiroth from the summit and send Zack instead. However, given the information Cissnei and Elena gathered on Avalanche, it was decided that we will play things out as if Sephiroth’s replacement is last minute. Publicity won’t change and no one other than those of us involved with the summit’s planning should know.”_

There was a pause before Tseng took in a deep breath and blurted out, _“Avalanche knows, Vincent.”_

“There’s a mole,” Vincent said, covering his eyes. 

Cloud and Reno looked up sharply at him but neither said anything.

_“Yes. Cissnei, Elena, and Kunsel are trying to find out who it is. I sent Rude to interrogate Palmer—his attempt to sell the rocket prototype doesn’t seem so innocuous anymore.”_

“Who else knows?”

_“Just us Turks and Kunsel. I ordered him not to tell anyone at Soldier, just in case Lazard is involved.”_

“All right. We can’t go back now, Tseng. What we found…” He sighed and felt terribly tired all of a sudden. “We can’t just leave it behind. We’ll do our best to wrap up tomorrow but it’ll depend on what we find.”

_“Well, there’s a bit of good news in that regard. After the meeting, Rufus had Gast and I stay behind. Gast gave the game away almost immediately—I think he was trying to get back at you for going off to Nibelheim against his wishes—and I couldn’t deny that you were gone. But Rufus wasn’t angry, more concerned, really, so he arranged it with Lazard to send Zack overnight. He should be in Nibelheim by sunrise.”_

“We could use the extra pair of hands, for sure. If you can, make sure he brings a videocamera, since we only have the instant photo one.”

“And an axe, yo! Or even better, a battering ram.”

“Oh, right. An axe, too. Unless we still have one of those compact battering rams about. We might need one of those.”

_“I… I’ll see what I can find. Do I even want to know?”_

“No… But you’ll hear about it when we return, all the same. We’ll go back into the tunnels early tomorrow, so you might not be able to reach us all day again. I’ll try to send you a text message from the cellar, see if it gets through.”

_“Roger. I’ll go put in that equipment request now and add a signal booster, just in case.”_

“Okay. Rest up, Tseng, and good luck.”

_“Same to you.”_

The call ended and Vincent rubbed his face with his hands, grunting.

“What was that about a mole, yo?”

Vincent explained what Tseng told him and Cloud and Reno looked at each other in confusion.

“How can there be a mole so high up in the chain of command?” Cloud asked. 

“It’s the only way whoever it is got past us,” Reno said, kicking a nearby rock in frustration. “Anyone below Vincent’s tier we have under tight surveillance, but everyone in an executive position gets an absolute vote of confidence. Even Slutbag and Grubby-Hands.”

Cloud had worked with Reno on enough occasions that he knew _Slutbag_ meant Scarlet and _Grubby-Hands_ could be none other than Heidegger.

“Rude’s interrogating Palmer.” When Cloud gave him a questioning look, Vincent explained. “We have him under custody because he was trying to sell a prototype he stole before leaving Shinra to a rival company. It’s not a stretch that the money could be going to Avalanche.”

“I know I’m stating the obvious here, but he wasn’t at the meeting,” Cloud pointed out.

“No, but he was a major suck-up for all other execs, so if any of them is involved, he’ll know.”

“And you think he’ll just give them away?” Cloud asked.

“Even if Rude weren’t the one interrogating him, he wouldn’t last long,” Vincent said.

Cloud simply nodded and they dropped the subject.

They decided to take the files and sample to the helicopter for safekeeping. Afterwards they returned to the inn and, in spite of the horrors of the day, had dinner. Cloud retired to his room to call Tifa while Reno decided to hit the local bar to unwind and Vincent simply went to his room to rest. He’d had half a mind to read the Fail-Safe file overnight but, after finding the last room at the cellar, he decided that it would be best to wait until they were back at Midgar. Except the mole business would probably prevent him from doing that as soon as he’d like.

_When it rains…_ Chaos said.

_This isn’t rain. It’s a storm._

* * *

 

 Zack arrived at sunrise, like Tseng predicted, loaded with a standard issue haversack plus a videocamera, two axes, a signal booster, and a battering ram. After giving him a quick briefing of the previous day’s findings and the plan for the day, the team set out to explore the second laboratory and whatever else they might find in the depths of the cellar.

“I don’t understand how no one knew about this,” Zack said as they made it to the first lab.

“Hojo was very secretive about his research, as well as paranoid,” Vincent explained. “Besides, as long as he provided the company with the results they wanted, they’d turn a blind eye to anything else he was doing. Nibelheim was his playground and he didn’t have to account for anything that went on here.”

“To think Tifa and I were probably playing up in Mount Nibel while he…” 

Cloud couldn’t even finish the sentence. Zack placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and the young blond smiled shakily at his friend. 

“Let’s just get this over with, yo,” Reno said as he opened the heavy door that would take them to the control room.

Once in the control room, Zack took the videocamera while Cloud kept the instant camera and they began to document everything. Vincent and Reno stood on either side of the door leading to the second lab. While the two Soldiers went about their task, Reno turned to Vincent.

“Why wouldn’t you let me go in that room yesterday, really?”

Vincent looked at him sideways before answering. “You’ll see when we go in.”

“All done,” Cloud said.

The Head Turk nodded and motioned for him and Zack to go inside. 

“Follow the tracks,” was all he said.

Zack went first, doing as Vincent instructed and following the tracks back to their source. As he went, he felt his skin breaking into goosebumps and his stomach knotting; his hands grew less steady until he had to stop and put the camera down.

“I’m sorry, but… what the _fuck_ happened here, Director?”

Vincent had remained outside, not wanting to appear in the video Zack was taking. With a heavy sigh, he entered the room, following the same path the dark-haired Soldier had taken. Once he reached him, Vincent silently took the camera from the younger man’s hands and resumed recording.

“The tracks originate on the conservation tanks’ area,” he said as much for the video as for his companions’ sake. “There is broken glass all around the laboratory’s floor, as well as traces of what can only be some sort of organic matter. Additionally, there are grooves and indentations on the floor and walls, as well as on some of the equipment, that seem to have been caused by claws or talons.”

He walked towards the tanks and recorded each one as he spoke.

“These three broken tanks are labelled _Project SB, Project GB,_ and _Project AB_. Given the nature of Hojo’s research and the information we found on the first laboratory/library, it is safe to assume the samples held here belonged to secondary projects branching from Projects Sephiroth, Genesis, and Angeal. The next tank, also broken, is labelled _Galian Beast_ , and the one next to that is _Chaos_. Then there are _Hell Masker, Death Gigas,_ and _Jenova._ Although these four tanks remain untouched, they are also empty. We haven’t read up on all the information gathered so there’s no way to know just what Hell Masker and Death Gigas are or were.

“The longest set of tracks originates from Project AB’s tank. After that, longest to shortest, come Project GB, Project SB, and Galian’s. Pending a thorough review of the surveillance tapes, I can deduce that AB escaped and freed his companions, then Galian reacted to the Jenova cells in them and managed to escape his tank, too. A struggle followed in which Galian was killed, probably taking SB with him. AB and GB tried to escape but only AB made it past the door; there is nothing to indicate GB’s fate. It is unclear at this point what happened to AB, whether he was simply stopped by the lab’s personnel, killed, or died as a result of whatever experiments were performed on him.”

He had followed the tracks back to the control room as he spoke, taking in as many details as he could. When he reached the end of AB’s tracks, he stopped talking and recording. He had to take a deep breath before adding the next part of his assessment.

“Judging by the size of the tracks, I think SB, GB, and AB were all children under six years old. End of recon video.”

Vincent handed the camera to Reno, who took it and stared at it as if it were responsible for the things his boss had just described.

“We wouldn’t have been able to sleep at night,” he said after a moment. “That’s why you didn’t let us in yesterday.”

“That, and I wouldn’t have been able to get you back here if another trip was necessary,” Vincent added.

“I’d love to tell ya that I would’ve done my job no matter what, but I’d be lying, yo. I’m having trouble staying here and not bolting back to town.”

“What kind of monster would experiment on little kids?” Zack asked, his fists shaking in anger at his sides.

“The same monster that would take his only child and pump him full of alien cells just to make a super soldier and win his rival’s position as head of department,” Cloud pointed out.

“As ironic as it is for me to say this, you need to forget about all that now,” Vincent said. “We need to take all these tapes back, collect samples from that room in case Gast can use any of it, and make sure there aren’t any more hidden rooms around. And I would greatly prefer to have all of that done today so we can go back to Midgar tonight.” 

The three men currently under Vincent’s command looked at each other with unease for a moment before finally nodding and looking back at him.

“I don’t know anything about collecting samples but I can pack like nobody’s business,” Zack said as he did a few squats.

“I’ll get some drawers from the other room and help you with that,” Cloud said.

“I’ll help you with the samples, Bossman.”

Vincent nodded. “Good. You all get started on that while I check for hidden doors.”

Again, all three men nodded and set to work. 

Vincent went into the second lab and checked the tanks again.

_I think Professor Deranged was planning to graft Hell Masker and Death Gigas to you,_ Chaos said. _Whatever happened here with the children must have put him off that idea._

_You were here, it seems. Do you remember anything?_

_No. I can’t retain memories without a physical body. Honestly, I’m afraid to find out what happened here. If I harmed those children…_

_It’s not your fault, Chaos._

_What happened to Sephiroth wasn’t your fault, either. It doesn’t stop you from letting guilt rule a big chunk of your life._

_Touché. Let’s make a deal then: If you were in any way involved in whatever happened in here, you won’t let it eat you up. In exchange, I’ll try harder to follow my own advice and leave the past where it belongs._

_Deal. Now let’s hurry up and wrap up here. In addition to this place giving me the creeps, I have a bad feeling about this mole business._

_That makes two of us._

 

* * *

 

 

Much to his annoyance, Vincent _did_ find another door in the second lab. 

_At least we get to use the battering ram,_ Chaos said, clearly excited. 

After breaking the door in, Vincent grabbed a flashlight and entered a storage room for various compounds and even more journals in Hojo’s nearly undecipherable squiggles. Frustration threatening to take over, Vincent took a deep breath and scanned the labels on some of the jars. His heart skipped a beat when several items had names that started or ended with _F-S_.

“Fail-Safe,” he murmured. “What the hell were you up to, you sick bastard?”

Reno came up to his side then, carrying a bag filled with the samples he’d taken from the previous room. 

“I’m all done with both rooms, Bossman. Need any help here?”

“Yeah, but we’ll need cardboard boxes.”

“There are some empty crates back in the chopper that the previous pilot forgot to unload. I cursed him up and down when I noticed, but I guess it was a good thing, in the end.”

“Yeah. Take Cloud with you and bring… I don’t know, five or six over, just in case. Take back whatever’s already packed, too. My text to Tseng didn’t go through and every minute we spend away from Midgar makes me even more uneasy.”

“I know. I feel like we fuckin’ dropped the ball, yo. A _mole_. That’s like…” He grunted and mimicked strangling something with his free hand. 

Vincent couldn’t help but chuckle. “Calm down, Red. We’ll get it fixed. And once we do, I’ll have a nice, long chat with our young President about absolute-confidence votes. Long story short: never again. Not even us.”

“You’ve been back long enough to have realised that we’re the only department Rufus _knows_ he can rely on one hundred percent. And he’s the only exec _we_ can absolutely trust.”

A small smile tugged at Vincent’s lips. “I suppose. It was very different with his father, so I guess part of me is still hung up on that.”

Reno shrugged and patted Vincent’s shoulder. “Rufus can replace everyone but us, and we only need him. The rest is just trimming. I’ll go get those crates now.”

Vincent nodded and, as Reno left, he took a walk around the room just to make sure there weren’t any more surprises. A little over half an hour later, he heaved a sigh of relief when he was certain Hojo didn’t have anything else stashed away and leaned on the wall before slumping to the floor with his head between his hands.

That’s how Zack found him a few minutes later. The black-haired Soldier seemed at a loss for a moment before sitting next to Vincent.

“Everything all right, Director Valentine?”

Vincent huffed a chuckle. “Not at all, Lieutenant Fair.”

“That was a pretty quick response.”

“Well, I’ve had a horrible half-week and it’s only going to get worse. No need to think of an answer.”

Zack nodded. “I can sort of understand that.” 

He paused, trying to figure out whether or not it was a good idea to speak his mind. In the end, he took a deep breath before continuing.

“Listen, I know some of what’s going on so I’m not going to say anything to stir the pot, but Aerith made me promise I’d tell you that she would like to talk to you as soon as you have a few hours to spare. She knows it might not be anytime soon, but still.”

The gunman looked at Zack with a slightly bemused expression. The Soldier laughed and shook his head.

“I didn’t think Turks could look so at a loss, Director.”

“Well, that was rather unexpected, Lieutenant. But, tell Ms. Gainsborough that I would love to have a chat with her as soon as things clear up a little.”

“Awesome. So, all we need to do is finish packing this room and the tapes?”

Vincent nodded. “Thankfully. I don’t want to spend more time here than absolutely necessary.”

“No kidding. Cloud’s very shaken up, too.”

“To know your hometown was the epicentre of so much evil is not an easy thing to come to terms with. I hope he can forgive me for dragging him here again, but he’s the only person with sufficient knowledge of the area that I can trust.”

“He doesn’t blame you, Director. He’s happy to help.”

“I know. That’s one of the reasons I’ll talk to Lazard and put in a formal recommendation to promote him to First Class. Kunsel, too. He’s helped us a lot with Avalanche.”

Zack grinned and playfully bumped his shoulder against Vincent’s. 

“Thanks, Director. They’ll be really happy to hear that.”

“Not a—”

He stopped when he heard someone running towards the room. A few seconds later, Reno skidded inside with a crate in each hand, panting.

“Vincent, we gotta run. Tseng called while we were coming back and said they found the moles. Slutbag and Grubby-Hands have been selling us out for nearly a year.”

Zack and Vincent jumped to their feet. Before they could say anything, Reno dropped the crates and his green eyes blazed with anger.

“They _escaped_ , Vincent. Not only that, but Elena and Kunsel are missing as well.”

“Missing?” Zack asked.

“Taken by Avalanche.” 

Reno was about to say something else when he caught Vincent’s eyes. They were flickering between crimson and gold and the redhead was sure he could see something crawl underneath the gunman’s skin.

“Vincent?”

“Director? What the—?”

“Finish packing up _now_ ,” Vincent said, his voice mixed with Chaos’s. “Scarlet and Heidegger’s days are numbered.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, all!
> 
> So, another chapter’s gone by. Sorry if it seems like this didn’t go anywhere, but there are things I wanted to mention that would’ve gotten lost in later chapters. I’ll try to have that done by next week, by the way, but my internet situation is kinda crappy so we’ll see.
> 
> Also, I made a mistake in chapter 4. At some point I typed that Seph was thirty when he’s actually 31. I’ll go back and fix it as soon as I can but yeah.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has commented, favourited/followed/given kudos. It means a lot to me :)


	7. Whack-A-Mole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Planning a rescue mission, dealing with fidgety executives and Soldiers, executing the aforementioned rescue mission, and dealing with its aftershocks—all within the span of eighteen hours. All to receive one more gut-wrenching call from Gast claiming to be as important as looking after an injured family member. Vincent can’t help but wonder when will the storm centred around himself end.

Vincent was curled up on an armchair in Elena’s room at the medical wing, typing away on his tablet. The tapping of his fingers on the screen mixed with the beeping of Elena’s heart monitor and the deep, even rhythm of her breathing. Her left arm was in a cast, her head, torso, and right ankle were heavily bandaged, and several bruises and cuts covered a large part of her body. An IV delivered painkillers and she wore an oxygen mask. The doctors said she was out of danger but she hadn’t woken up since Vincent and Rude rushed her to the medical wing. 

Kunsel was in the room across the hall with a broken leg, several cracked ribs, a broken nose, and assorted cuts and bruises. His forehead was heavily bandaged and there was a net around his head from the surgery to repair his cracked skull. Like Elena, he had yet to wake up after passing out on the evacuation chopper on their way to Shinra HQ. 

Vincent was writing up the report of the events leading up to and including Elena and Kunsel’s rescue from an Avalanche hideout near Kalm. He was wearing a patch over his left eye while it healed from a stray knife jab, and a bandage on his right forearm. Even though his healing rate was faster than even Sephiroth’s thanks to Chaos’s presence, Gast had tried to get him to rest in his own room; however, Vincent refused to let Elena out of his sight. Tseng, Rude, and Reno were busy interrogating Heidegger, Scarlet, and Ginga—Avalanche’s leader in the region—while Cissnei coordinated information with Lazard and Sephiroth. Angeal had stayed behind at the factory to gather all documents that hadn’t been destroyed during the raid in hopes of finding information about other Avalanche cells and their plans for the summit and other upcoming events.

Zack was in Kunsel’s room, loth to let anyone else look after his pupil. Cloud had been excused from the mission altogether when Vincent put him in charge of all the data and items they had gathered at Nibelheim, but he had found the time to call Vincent and Zack as soon as he heard they were back to check on Elena and Kunsel’s condition.

From their kidnapping to their hospitalisation, the Turk and the Soldier’s ordeal lasted about thirteen hours, and they’d been in the medical wing for at least four. All in all, no more than eighteen hours had passed, and yet Vincent felt like an entire week of his life had been spent trying to save the life of both operatives.

* * *

 

 

As soon as they landed at the top of the Shinra building, the four men inside the helicopter sprung into action, their plan having been detailed on the flight over from Midgar. 

Cloud stayed behind guarding the cargo and waiting for Gast and his team to arrive to start transporting everything to the Science Department. He had strict instructions to make a copy of the Fail-Safe binder for Vincent and to hold on to it until the situation with the moles had been resolved. Vincent, Reno, and Zack rushed to the Turks’ floor, where Tseng and Cissnei waited along with Lazard and Rufus. Sephiroth had wanted to be there but, for obvious reasons, he was ordered to stay away. Angeal was already on the field, surveilling Elena and Kunsel’s last known location along with Rude. 

Vincent and the other two barged into the conference room, seething and ready to bash someone’s head in. Chaos was still restless within Vincent, making the Head Turk’s skin ripple now and again with the threat of a transformation. Rufus and Lazard looked at him warily.

“It’s fine,” Vincent grumbled, Chaos’s voice echoing around the edges. “He’s behaving. What’s the situation?”

Tseng nodded and brought up surveillance photos on the overhead projector. They showed a run-down factory of sorts in a valley between two mountain ranges near an ocean shore. 

“The Avalanche surveillance team was able to locate their main hideout in the area on Monday. It was about an hour after the summit meeting where it was decided that Zack would replace Sephiroth as Soldier’s rep. We now know that it was Heidegger that tipped the local Avalanche leader, and their conversation allowed Elena and Kunsel to pinpoint Avalanche’s location. It’s an abandoned seafood processing plant about three quarters of the way between Midgar and Kalm. They managed to stay off radar by using the facility’s built-in tunnels. Communication up until a couple of weeks ago was done mainly via radio because there weren’t enough wireless towers in the area.”

Rufus’s stare darkened. “That bitch made us invest in the area under the pretext that a new testing facility could be built there. She said she wanted more towers there to be able to better communicate with the prospecting teams.” He punched the table, cursing. “I can’t believe she was doing it to help Avalanche.”

“Calm down, Rufus. We’ll have plenty of time to think of a way to handle them once we get Elena and Kunsel back,” Lazard said.

Rufus exhaled slowly and nodded. Tseng kept going.

“It was a good thing that we invested in the towers, otherwise we never would’ve intercepted the call between Heidegger and Avalanche. It also helped us in programming the drones to take the surveillance pictures. As soon as we realised they were there, we sent out Kunsel and Elena to stake out the facility in order to come up with a plan of attack. At the same time, Rude was interrogating Palmer about his attempt at selling the plans in Junon. He caved easily and ratted out Scarlet and Heidegger. That’s when things snowballed south.”

He switched the pictures on the projector and showed pictures that Elena and Kunsel had sent before disappearing. There were notes attached to each picture that detailed how many people guarded the access points as well as the timing of the shift changes. 

“Almost ten minutes after we received these pictures, all communication with Elena and Kunsel was lost. The GPS units built into their phones stopped working and the instruments monitoring their vitals went offline. The same thing happened with Scarlet and Heidegger’s phones—they stopped transmitting their location as soon as they stepped out of the building.”

“How did they know we were on to them, yo?”

“A member of the Security Department saw Rude taking Palmer in for questioning and tipped Heidegger off,” Cissnei said. “We were forced to detain all security personnel in the building to make sure there were no more information leaks, but the damage was already done.”

“I hate being the one asking this, but… if we lost all contact with them, how do we know Elena and Kunsel are alive?” Zack asked.

Tseng’s expression turned grim as he switched the images on the projector once more.

“Because of this.”

One of two pictures showed Elena tied to a chair; her jacket had been torn into strips and used to bind her to the chair and to gag and blindfold her. There was a large cut on her left temple and her lip was split. The picture right next to it showed Kunsel on the floor with his hands tied behind his back and his ankles tied together. He was also gagged and blindfolded and there was a lot of blood on the lower half of his face. There was no way to know if they were conscious or not until Tseng played an audio file that had been sent along with the photos.

_“This is Ginga, leader of Avalanche. We have Elena of the Turks and Kunsel of Soldier as our hostages. We demand Rufus Shinra’s resignation as President of the Shin-Ra Electric Power Company and the discontinuation of all mako reactors effective immediately. You have twenty-four hours to comply, or your lapdogs will die.”_

In the background, Elena and Kunsel could be heard screaming in pain even through their gags. The audio ran for a few seconds more before stopping entirely. 

Those who had already seen the photos and heard the audio bit back their outrage. Reno and Zack cursed and were visibly restless, while Vincent remained stock still, his eyes closed. The only outward sign that he was in any way affected by the situation was the flickering of his eyelids. 

“How long ago did you receive this?” Vincent asked, eyes still closed.

“Five hours. I called Reno as soon as I finished going over the photos and audio,” Tseng said.

“Do you know where they are?”

“The abandoned plant,” Cissnei answered.

“Have you heard anything from Angeal and Rude?”

 “There has been some movement inside the plant but nothing outside. We believe they’re sticking exclusively to the tunnels now that they know we’ve found their location. There hasn’t been any sight of Scarlet or Heidegger but, again, they could already be inside.”

“Just say the word, Bossman. I’ll fly us all up there, we’ll get the kids out and then we’ll burn that den of snakes to the ground.”

“We need Scarlet and Heidegger alive,” Lazard said. “We need to know just how much information they’ve leaked out to Avalanche and our rivals. It would also help if we could capture Ginga.”

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’!” Reno snapped. “They fucking sold us out and you’re expecting us to let them live?”

“Believe me, they won’t have particularly long lives,” Rufus hissed.

“We’ll deal with that later,” Vincent said. “Right now we need a plan. Barging in guns blazing might do more harm than good, particularly when dealing with a ragtag troupe of easily frightened, trigger happy incompetents that have nothing to lose. Elena and Kunsel will endure; we just need to play our cards right.”

Lazard relaxed, obviously relieved that someone in the room was thinking logically, if only for the time being. 

“I think the best course of action would be to cut the power to the facility. It would kill their security cameras and leave them in a state of confusion that we could use to our advantage,” he said.

Cissnei took the remote from Tseng’s hands and brought up the blueprints for the factory that she had procured as soon as Elena reported the location of Avalanche’s hideout.

“That should be relatively easy,” she said, using the laser to point out the small shed that housed the plant’s generator. “It’s just a matter of infiltrating this small construction here and switching everything off.”

“We know that the tunnels come out in this area,” Tseng said, taking the other laser pointer and indicating a small way station. “We can have a small team here to catch any strays while we raid the plant. According to Kunsel’s notes, security is very thin and sloppy on the east entrance. That seems like a safe access and egress point.”

“Where are Elena and Kunsel held?” Zack asked.

“We have narrowed it down to either the cargo area near the tunnels or the packing section on the second floor. Angeal and Rude are trying to figure out which of the two areas is the right one but visibility from their vantage point isn’t very good and there’s really no other place they can try to get a better view from.”

“We need three teams, then,” Zack said. “One positioned at the way station, and two to infiltrate the factory. One would focus on the hostiles and the other would look for our friends and the moles.”

“I’ll take care of the hostiles,” Vincent said. “Let Soldier patrol the way station while the Turks take Elena and Kunsel to safety and capture Scarlet and Heidegger if they’re there.”

Zack and Lazard looked at Vincent with twin looks of skepticism. When they turned to Rufus, they were surprised to see him nodding in approval.

“I’m sorry, Director Valentine, but… are you sure? We don’t know how many people they have inside,” Zack said cautiously.

Vincent’s lips curled in a menacing grin. When his eyes finally opened, they shone with a cold, golden glow, and his voice as he spoke was more Chaos than Vincent.

“The more the merrier,” he intoned.

 

* * *

It took a bit of convincing and a stern order from Rufus for Lazard and Zack to shut up and do as they were told, but in the end they went with Vincent’s plan. Zack asked for two hours to rally and outfit enough Soldier operatives to barricade the tunnels; Reno used that time to prepare the helicopter that would take the Turks to the location. With Heidegger and Scarlet gone, Rufus had to authorise the use of two Gelnika airplanes to transport the Soldier units, and Lazard personally oversaw their preparations. Cissnei contacted Angeal and Rude and relayed the plan to them as soon as the meeting was over. After that, she set up a secure network for the extraction team to communicate in case any Avalanche informants were still at large in the building.

While the preparations were under way, Vincent took the chance to eat. He knew he’d need to keep up his strength for Chaos to be able to raid Avalanche’s hideout on his own. He was in his office eating take-out from a nearby café when Rufus entered. The young President’s expression was grim as he sat across from the Head Turk with his arms folded over his chest. The gunman took the blond’s overall appearance before offering him some of his food. A small smile curved Rufus’s lips as he shook his head minutely.

“You need it more than I,” was all he said.

Vincent shrugged and took another bite from his chicken parmesan. He chewed slowly, trying to gauge whether Rufus would say something or if it was up to him to start the conversation. As he swallowed, he realised the younger man had no idea where to begin.

“I told Reno I’d have a long chat with you about absolute confidence votes and the hassle they can be. Now, though, I don’t think I need to.”

That seemed to hit the nail on the head. Rufus slumped in his chair, covering his face with his hands and grunting in frustration. 

“It’s my fault. I knew those three weasels were nothing but trouble even before I took over, but I never imagined they’d go so far as to sabotage the company and allow my employees to come to harm. If something happens to Elena and Kunsel, I—”

“ _Nothing_ will happen to them,” Vincent said sternly. “Elena’s my family—”

“She’s my family, too!” Rufus interrupted, sitting on the edge of his chair and punching the armrests. “The Turks are the only family I have left, Vincent! They kept me safe from my _father_ , for Planet’s sake. And now…” 

He rested his head in his hands, trembling in anger and fear. 

Vincent wasn’t shocked to learn that Old Shinra had tried to get rid of his son in one way or another. He’d met the man and knew he was nothing but bad news all around. He wasn’t surprised to learn that Tseng and the others, possibly spurred by Veld, had decided to protect the young man from the old bastard’s ambition, either. What Reno had told him back at Nibelheim made a lot more sense now, and he made a mental note to get the whole story from the others as soon as there was a chance. 

However, seeing Rufus so shaken up _was_ a surprise. There was a rumour circulating the company stating that no one had ever seen Rufus bleed or cry. He didn’t know anything about that, but he did know that the young man had a flinty disposition. He had rarely seen Rufus outside of work so he had no idea if it was just an act or if the blond really was like that. Right now, however, he supposed the man was as multifaceted as himself. There was no way to fake such concern and guilt over the fate of another person. 

Leaving his food aside for a moment, Vincent stood up and walked around his desk to stand behind Rufus’s chair. He placed his hands on the blond’s shoulders and squeezed reassuringly. Once he felt the younger man relax, he spoke.

“If you feel so strongly about Elena and the others, then I know exactly how you feel right now, sir. That being the case, I hope you believe me when I say that I will do everything in my power to bring Elena and Kunsel back alive. Afterwards, I will let you and Lazard deal with the weasels, and then the three of us will figure out how to protect those we hold dear in the future. We dropped the ball this once, Rufus, but I assure you that no one is going to threaten our family again. If they try, they’ll have to deal with me _and_ Chaos.”

Rufus nodded, slumping back on the chair and tilting his head back to look at Vincent’s face.

“Lazard and Zack are worried that Chaos might get trigger happy, to use your term.”

Vincent grinned. “I know. We like it that way.”

The blond frowned and twisted around in his chair to look at Vincent evenly. “I’m not kidding here, Vincent. I don’t know exactly what’s going on with you and… Gast’s son, but if there’s a chance, _any_ chance, that you might lose control of Chaos and endanger everyone, I need to know.”

“There is not the slightest chance of that happening. It’s Galian we have some issues with, and as long as Gast’s son stays away from us, everything will be fine. Chaos regards the Turks as his family, too, and as such he would never allow himself to put them in harm’s way. I give you my word, sir.”

Rufus nodded and relaxed again. “Good.” He waited until Vincent returned to his chair to continue. “I know what Lazard said about needing Scarlet and Heidegger alive, but… it wouldn’t be a tragedy if they fell off a flight of stairs and broke their legs or something similarly accidental.”

The gunman laughed around a bite of pasta.

 

* * *

 

Bad weather held their departure back for an hour and a half and added another forty minutes to a flight that would have otherwise taken a little under an hour. By the time they made it to the vicinity of Avalanche’s hideout, Elena and Kunsel had been missing for nearly twelve hours. 

Reno landed the chopper two kilometres away from the outer edge of one of the mountain ranges that created the valley where the factory had been built. It was as close as they dared get—they didn’t want Avalanche to hear them coming. A short call with Zack told them that the two Gelnikas had landed safely on the shore and the Soldier operatives were on their way to barricade the entrance to the tunnels that led to the factory’s basement. 

Rude and Angeal joined the Turks at the foot of the mountain and provided an updated report. Scarlet and Heidegger had just arrived at the factory and were greeted by a stocky guy in his late thirties that seemed to be running the operations in the hideout. Unlike everyone else, the ex-Shinra executives accessed the building through the northern entrance after arriving to the site in an unmarked vehicle. 

“Let’s go through this again,” Vincent said. “Reno and Cissnei will cut the power off. We’ll take that chance to infiltrate through the eastern entrance. I’ll deal with the hostiles while the rest of you find Elena and Kunsel. Now that we know that Scarlet and Heidegger _are_ here, you’ll also take them under custody. Angeal and Rude, if you see the man that they talked to, bring him in, too. It’s likely he’s this Ginga character that recorded the ransom tape. 

“I expect most of the rank and file will try to flee once they realise just what kind of trouble they’re in and I’ll do my best to cover you all, but if any strays try to attack you, take them down. We only need three prisoners.”

Everyone nodded and checked their gear and weapons one more time before moving into the clearing that housed the factory.

* * *

 

 

Vincent saved his progress and stretched, rolling his head to relieve some of the tension on his neck. A quick glance at Elena told him she was still sound asleep; her vitals remained steady, too, and that brought him some degree of relief. 

Rubbing his right eye, he reached into his jacket’s pocket for a chocolate bar. He really should have gone to the cafeteria or at least the vending machines for something more substantial but he was more concerned with keeping an eye on Elena. He’d barely taken a bite out of the bar when the secure phone Cissnei gave him before they left for the factory vibrated in his pocket. Nearly inhaling the piece of chocolate in his mouth, he answered.

“Vincent speaking.”

_“It’s Rufus. Just checking if it’s all right to see Elena now.”_

“You can come if you like, sir, but she’s still sleeping.”

_“I see. I think I’ll stop by, anyway. Do you need anything?”_

“Decent food would be nice.”

_“By ‘decent’ I take it you mean not from a vending machine or the cafeteria,”_ Rufus said in obvious amusement.

“Right now even that would be acceptable. It’s slightly better than the chocolate bar I’m about to wolf down.”

Rufus chuckled. _“Understood. I won’t take long.”_

“All right. See you soon, sir.”

_“See you soon.”_

Vincent stood up and took another bite off the chocolate bar before walking to Elena’s bed. He gently pushed hair out of her face and straightened her sheets. He squeezed her hand and kissed her forehead softly before heading back to the armchair. He was reading through the last thing he’d written on his report when there was a soft knock on the door. Before he could answer, a nurse came in to check Elena’s vitals. While she did that, Vincent popped the rest of the chocolate into his mouth and resumed his report.

* * *

It took Reno and Cissnei less than five minutes to infiltrate the generator’s shed, disable the lights, and rejoin the party at the eastern entrance. As predicted, the lack of electricity caused enough of a confusion that it was easy for the six of them to access the building without confrontation. The night-vision goggles Cissnei had procured greatly assisted them as they bypassed the guard shift and entered the factory’s lobby. Disposing of the lone guard stationed there was no problem, either. 

However, as soon as they were inside, all hell broke loose.

The terrorists were better trained and equipped than Vincent had given them credit for and they had apparently been waiting for them. He heard at least three different people shouting orders: kill the intruders, evacuate the execs and the boss, get rid of all the evidence. When another voice ordered for the hostages to be disposed of, Vincent glanced quickly to his left. He was just in time to catch Tseng’s determined glance as he sprinted towards the staircase leading to the second floor followed closely by Reno, both of them shooting the confused hostiles getting in their way. Cissnei and Rude were on their way to the far side of the factory, their goal the cargo area near the tunnels. Angeal had apparently spotted Avalanche’s leader or the Shinra traitors and was making his way to what appeared to be an office, his Buster Sword doubling as a shield against a flurry of bullets and thrown objects.

_How do you want to do this?_ Chaos asked.

Vincent grinned, his canines elongating until they were full-fledged fangs. 

_Wraith_ , was his reply.

Chaos laughed his approval. 

Vincent had left his three-barrelled gun behind and chose instead a set of twin revolvers the Turks had given him for his birthday last year. They were a lot easier to reload and handle, particularly when he decided not to allow Chaos a full transformation and settled with his wraith-like form. 

He didn’t know how it worked, only how it felt. In a word, it was disturbing, the only sensation close to it being the painful pins-and-needles feeling you get when circulation returns to your limbs after a long period of being asleep, except it didn’t hurt. Instead, there was a tingly sensation all over his body, accompanied by a maddening adrenaline rush and an astounding ethereal experience. 

Visually, Reno’s description was spot on: _fucking freaky_. 

It looked like Vincent’s body became a blur of fabric and something leathery, very likely Chaos’s wings and skin. After some time, the Weapon had taught the gunman how to control the transformations and he could easily switch between the wraith and his own body, sometimes staying in an in-between state where he was encased in a fluttery mass, allowing him to shoot and reload without becoming a target. If he chose to, he could also partially transform his arms and legs, replacing them with Chaos’s claws and talons. 

During this particular raid, he hopped from place to place, shooting terrorists that were far away with impeccable aim and snapping the necks of anyone who managed to come close enough to him for close quarters combat. A few times he found himself surrounded by the boldest or more reckless enemies. His solution was simple: he became a deadly spinning top, lashing out with claws and talons. By the time he was done, all that was left of his attackers were severed limbs and a lot of carnage. 

Unflinching, he kept moving through the main floor, dispatching anyone foolish enough not to be on the run already. He dodged knives and bullets with nearly ridiculous ease, all the while keeping an eye on the three teams scattered across the factory. They were all wearing earbuds to communicate but all he kept hearing from the other Turks was ‘clear’ whenever they kicked a door down; Angeal had yet to say anything and Zack had only checked in once to say the hostiles were under control on his end. 

Long minutes dragged by and the hostiles began to thin out inside the factory. The main floor was clear and Vincent flew to the first floor. As soon as he landed on the catwalk, a rain of bullets centred on him. He cartwheeled along the bridge, returning fire and easily disposing of the marksmen. Soon he was flanked by foot soldiers, making his situation slightly more challenging. Still, no matter how much he had underestimated the enemy before, he had now reassessed them and acted accordingly. 

It didn’t take him long to dispose of the two dozen or so hostiles coming at him from either side of the catwalk. When only two of them remained, Cissnei’s voice on his comm unit informed him they had found Elena and Kunsel alive. The immense wave of relief that washed over him turned out to be distraction enough for one of his attackers to come close to him while he was stationary in his normal shape. Thankfully, the man was more panicked than anything else and only managed two wild swings with his hunting knife. One clipped Vincent’s left eye and the other met his right forearm as he tried to defend himself. A well-placed kick sent the attacker flying off the bridge and he put a bullet between the other one’s eyes. 

After making sure no one else was coming at him, his attention returned to the chatter coming through the comm unit. Tseng had joined Angeal in pursuit of Scarlet, Heidegger, and the man they had by now confirmed to be Ginga. Cissnei, Reno, and Rude had stabilised Elena and Kunsel and were already on their way back to the chopper. 

Tearing the sleeve off his jacket, Vincent used it as a makeshift bandage for his eye and forearm before deciding to join Tseng and Angeal. 

He was about a hundred metres away from the generator’s shed when he saw that Angeal was guarding Scarlet and Heidegger, who were handcuffed with their backs against the shed. Ginga was still trying to fight his way out in a hand-to-hand duel against Tseng, who seemed to have run out of bullets and throwing knives. Vincent knew his second in command was holding back, very likely trying to rein in his anger in order not to kill the man that had caused them so much grief over the past few years. He also realised that the Wutain’s self-control was quickly slipping and he was dangerously close to just killing Ginga. 

Not that Vincent would blame him if he did.

Images of Elena and Kunsel beaten up and tied to chairs flooded Vincent’s mind. He didn’t snap but that was nothing short of a miracle. He closed the final sixty metres or so in full wraith mode; all Angeal and the rest saw was a black shadow tackling Ginga to the ground and enveloping him like a living, sentient bank of sable fog. Ginga’s panicked screams were so loud that not even the strong wind that had began to howl in the valley could carry them away. By the time Vincent solidified into his human form less than a minute later, Avalanche’s leader had a broken nose and fractured cheekbone, both shoulders dislocated, a fractured clavicle, his left leg broken and twisted like a candy wrapper, and several lacerations all over his body. He wasn’t screaming anymore.

Vincent was kneeling over Ginga with one hand wrapped around the man’s neck while the other one was holding a revolver to his forehead. The gunman’s breathing was perfectly even, which only made his overall appearance all the more terrifying. 

His face, hair, and arms were covered with blood and bits of what seemed to be flesh. The bandages he had applied before leaving the factory had fallen off, showing his left eye was now swollen shut, making the intense golden glow of his right eye all the more apparent and sinister. His lips were curled in a vicious half grin, half snarl that showed his fangs. His clothes were all in disarray, and the missing sleeve of his jacket made the dark blood staining his usually pristine white shirt a focal point. 

Angeal and Tseng were frozen for a moment. Scarlet fainted at the sight and Heidegger was screaming at the top of his lungs that Vincent was a demon and that he didn’t want to die at his hands. Before Angeal could react, Vincent leapt off Ginga and unto Heidegger, wrapping two clawed arms around the heavyset man’s broad neck. That brought the former executive’s screaming down to panicked blubbering.

“I should _end_ you right now,” Vincent snarled. 

His face was less than an inch away from Heidegger’s and some of the blood dripping from his black tresses fell on the other man’s face. Heidegger’s high-pitched whimper apparently was too much for Vincent’s straining patience and the gunman shoved the large man against the wall, knocking him out. 

With a disgusted grunt, Vincent stood up and walked away from the scene without looking at Tseng or Angeal, disappearing into the shadow of the mountain. 

Tseng exhaled heavily and went about the tedious business of handcuffing Ginga even though it was unlikely the man would try to escape given his condition. He could sense Angeal fidgeting behind him but he paid the man no heed until he was done with Avalanche’s leader. When he was, he stood up, stretching his back and legs before turning towards the Soldier.

“What the hell was that, Tseng?”

“The Director doing his job.”

Angeal’s blue eyes, clearly visible in the dark thanks to their mako glow, narrowed and fixed Tseng with an icy stare.

“How is nearly mutilating a suspect part of his job?”

The smile Tseng gave Angeal made him as uneasy as Vincent’s cold demeanour before stepping into the shadows did.

“I would have killed him, Angeal. One more minute of dancing around with him and I would have snapped his neck.”

“Because of Elena?”

“Because of Elena, because of Kunsel, because of everyone who has died as a result of Avalanche’s narrow-minded ambition. Because of the constant headache Avalanche has been for the President and all the other executives, including Vincent and Lazard. Because I can’t kill Scarlet, Heidegger, or Palmer. Because he _doesn’t deserve to live_.”

“Who are you to decide that?”

“We’re Turks.”

Vincent had returned without either of them noticing. He was standing a few metres away from them, still mostly covered in blood but looking more composed. His eyes were back to their warm crimson colour, at least the one that was still open, and his arms were back to normal. 

“You can’t understand, Commander Hewley, and that’s fine. But don’t judge us.”

He casually flicked some blood off his chin while staring evenly at Angeal. The Soldier returned the stare but eventually he sighed heavily and turned away.

“Cissnei and the others are probably waiting for you to return to Midgar. Leave these three with me—it might get too crowded in the helicopter with all of you and the weather is still rather foul,” Angeal suggested. “I’ll send Zack ahead with the prisoners while I stay behind with a few Soldier operatives to retrieve whatever documents Avalanche didn’t destroy.”

Vincent and Tseng exchanged a brief look and Vincent nodded. 

“I think that’s a good idea.”

Without warning, Vincent grabbed Tseng by the waist and, enveloping him in a black shroud of leathery mist, disappeared.

* * *

After materialising a few metres away from the chopper, Vincent grunted as if someone had kicked him in the guy and fell to his knees. Tseng helped him up and Reno, who got off the bird as soon as he saw the two men appear out of nowhere in the field ahead of them, helped carried Vincent into the helicopter. 

As soon as everyone was securely on board, Reno took off towards Midgar as fast as he could given the still uncooperative weather. Both Kunsel and Elena had been awake when Cissnei and Rude found them but had drifted in and out of consciousness on the way from the factory to the helicopter. Kunsel had inquired about Elena after being strapped to the stretcher and promptly given in to exhaustion as soon as Cissnei told him the blonde was fine. While he remained down for the count the rest of the flight, Elena kept waking up every half hour or so. Rude remained at her side, holding her hand and reassuring her when she came to.

Tseng had just finished hooking a saline IV to Vincent’s uninjured arm to help rehydrate him after all the blood he had lost and was now busy bandaging his eye. Anyone else would have needed stitches but Vincent insisted that Chaos would take care of it.

“Stop fussing, Corvus. I’ll be as good as new by tomorrow.”

“You’re still bleeding, though. We need to at least stop that.”

“ _Why_ are you still bleeding?” Cissnei asked while she tended to Kunsel’s wounds. “It should’ve already stopped.”

“Chaos was too worked up to keep an eye on Galian and he got slightly out of control. He can’t spare the energy to close my wounds until he’s done with him.”

“Did you find anything at Nibelheim that might help Gast figure out how to control Galian?” Tseng asked.

“Possibly, but we didn’t have much time to go through the files so I’m not entirely sure.”

Vincent felt his secure phone vibrate in his pants’ pocket and he fished it out with his left hand. 

“Valentine.”

_“I’m not going to make a big deal out of you not calling me as soon as you got on the chopper, but I need to know how Elena and Kunsel are doing. I just got a text from Zack saying the operation was over but he didn’t give me any details.”_

A weary smiled curved Vincent’s lip and he grabbed Tseng’s hand in his to stop the Wutain from trying to clean blood off his face while he talked to Rufus.

“Apologies, sir. Both of them are alive—a bit worse for wear but they should recover fully given enough time.”

A ragged sigh of relief came from the other side of the line and he could hear Rufus slumping on his desk.

_“Thank Minerva,”_ he breathed. _“How is everyone else?”_

“They all performed admirably and got away with minor bumps and cuts here and there.”

_“And you?”_

“Got sloppy and have a couple of bothersome knife wounds as a reminder not to let my emotions get in the way of work.”

_“Anything serious?”_

“Nothing that won’t heal in a day or two.”

_“What about Scarlet and Heidegger, then?”_

“Alive, too. Zack will bring them in along with Ginga.”

Rufus nearly growled. _“Good. Do you have an ETA? So I can alert medical and have them on the helipad waiting for you.”_

After consulting with Reno, Vincent informed Rufus that they expected to be back in Midgar in an hour and a half, at the most. After promising to have everything ready for their return, Rufus ended the call. As soon as Vincent closed his phone, Tseng went back to trying to clean Vincent’s face. The gunman didn’t bother trying to stop him this time. He did lick blood off his lip again, catching the Wutain’s gaze.

“What? You’re looking at me like Angeal did back there.”

“I’m sorry. I just don’t remember you ever doing that before.”

_Tell him it’s my fault._

_Is it, now?_

_Yep. It’s a way to recycle energy while you can get a decent meal and rest. We were doing it at the factory, too, you just didn’t realise it._

_Lovely._

“Chaos says it’s his fault. He needs energy and it seems like this is the only way he can get it, at least until I get actual food and rest.”

Tseng smirked as he continued to wipe blood off Vincent’s cheek. 

“You had Angeal positively spooked, Vin-sama.”

“Good. That’ll teach him to second-guess us.”

 

* * *

When Rufus entered Elena’s room about an hour after his phone call with Vincent, he found both the blonde and the Head Turk similarly fast asleep. The gunman was still on the armchair, curled up with his tablet hugged to his chest. His head was slumped back on the chair’s back and he was snoring softly. The young President couldn’t resist the urge to take out his phone to take a picture of one of the company’s most mysterious and feared men sound asleep and looking not only vulnerable but borderline adorable. 

He’d barely snapped his phone shut when a sliver of crimson became visible through thick eyelashes and Vincent curled on himself like a cat. 

“That better not make the rounds around the office, sir,” Vincent half yawned.

Rufus grinned and handed Vincent a brown takeout bag. 

“Don’t worry—that’s for my eyes only, Vincent. Unless I need to talk one of the Turks into doing something they don’t want to.”

Vincent made a small noise that Rufus had no idea how to interpret before opening the bag and inhaling deeply. The appreciative sigh and the impatient grumble coming from the gunman’s belly were not difficult to understand at all. 

“I had to ask around what you like. I hope I got it right.”

“Shoyu ramen from Leviathan’s Scales? The only thing better than this is Tseng’s home cooked version. Thank you, sir.”

Rufus nodded and went to look at Elena’s still form. A flicker of anger passed through his blue eyes before softening. He caressed her hair and kissed her forehead. 

“Hey, Elena. It’s me, Rufus. Just… Rest up, darling. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

Vincent was already eating his ramen, trying to enjoy it rather than just inhaling it like a starved man. Hearing Rufus’s soft tone helped him slow down. Again, here was a facet of the young President Vincent had never seen. He supposed he would’ve seen it sooner if he’d bothered to talk to the blond outside of work, but he’d been too busy rebuilding himself to socialise much outside of the Turks and Cloud. 

_It’s not too late_.

_I hope so._

“Sir? Why don’t you take a seat? She’s not going anywhere and you look exhausted.”

Rufus nodded and brought the visitor’s chair next to Vincent’s armchair. He sat down with a heavy sigh and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Vincent fished about on the takeout bag and brought out an orange cookie that he handed to the blond.

“Elena says you’re as big of a sugar junkie as she is. I don’t want you biting my hand off if you decide you wanted the cookie, after all.”

Vincent rolled his eyes and practically shoved the cookie at Rufus.

“There’s more in the bag and it looks like you could use a picker upper.”

The President smiled and took the cookie, taking a small bite out of it. He moaned in surprise and gave Vincent a wide-eyed look. 

“I know,” Vincent said with a grin. “They’re amazing.”

“Reno keeps going on and on about this place but I always dismiss him. I’ll have to organise an outing or something as soon as the dust settles.”

“That’s a great idea.”

Rufus let Vincent finish his ramen in peace before tackling a subject that had been bothering him since Angeal’s return to the building an hour and a half ago. 

“Angeal was rather unhappy when he got back. He said you unnecessarily harmed Ginga and Heidegger. On top of that, Tseng had a bit of a meltdown and you justified him by saying that Turks can decide who deserves to live and who doesn’t.”

“That seems accurate enough.”

The blond scoffed and shook his head slowly. 

“It’s not a big deal, really. I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t exaggerating about… It doesn’t matter.”

“He wasn’t,” Vincent said before biting into a cookie. “And it does matter, although perhaps not in the way you think. Angeal shouldn’t have said anything to you. What we do in the field should remain in the field unless it directly affects the company. That’s what we have reports for—by the way, I filed mine not long ago, if you want to check it. 

“What I did back there might’ve broken protocol but it didn’t affect the company. On the contrary, the two moles and Avalanche’s leader are alive and undergoing questioning. Did I overreact with Ginga? Perhaps. I know I felt myself lose some control over Chaos and he stepped in more than was absolutely necessary, but that son of a bitch kidnapped a member of our family and one of the few people I can entrust top level matters to. I hurt him on purpose, yes, and I did it out of revenge, yes. And I would do it all over again, particularly if my stepping in will keep Tseng from doing something stupid like, say, kill a target out of sheer anger and frustration.”

Rufus couldn’t help a small grin from curving his lips.

“That’s what bothered Angeal the most, I think. That you didn’t seem at all sorry about the way things went down. He’s also worried about your reputation. The few survivors of the raid claim it was a demon that attacked them. ‘Shinra’s Dark Avenger’, I think they’re calling you.”

Vincent laughed and a bit of Chaos’s own mirth came through.

“I didn’t even fully transform into Chaos,” he said after getting his breath back. 

Rufus shrugged, stealing another cookie from Vincent with a small smile.

“I didn’t think you’d mind. I actually told Angeal it might work to our advantage.”

“As a deterrent, you mean?” Rufus simply nodded and Vincent did the same. “You’re right, I don’t really mind. I’m not on the field enough for anyone to recognise me and having a bit of a myth might make Avalanche and other groups like them think twice before messing with us again.”

His regular phone vibrated in his pocket and he frowned when he saw it was Gast calling. Knowing Elena was in good hands with Rufus, Vincent excused himself and took the call in the hallway.

“Professor? Is something wrong?”

_“Not exactly. I just wanted to let you know I’ve gone through all of the files you brought back pertaining to you and the project Hojo called Fail-Safe.”_

Vincent didn’t like Gast’s tone and he felt his stomach knotting.

“Yes?”

_“I think you need to have Cloud deliver the dossier to you and read it as soon as possible. I know you want to stay by Elena’s side, but this is just as important, Vincent. It’s not life or death yet but it could be.”_

_Fucking Hojo,_ Chaos seethed.

“All right. I’ll arrange things so Elena’s not alone and then I’ll return to my apartment and read the files.”

_“Good. I’ll make sure Cloud gets you copies of the relevant video and audio tapes so you can check those, too. Call me as soon as you’re done, I don’t care how late or early.”_

“Will do.”

He disconnected the call with a curse and raked a hand through his hair. 

_When will this storm end?_

* * *

 

He was surprised to find Elena awake when he returned to her room. Rufus was beaming next to her and had completely forgotten to call a nurse or doctor to check on the blonde Turk. 

Elena smiled when she saw Vincent approach and tried to say something but the gunman stopped her.

“Shh, Lena. Don’t exert yourself.” He took her hand in his and squeezed gently, sighing in relief. “It’s really good to see you awake, Bushy-tail.” 

“Bushy-tail?”

Vincent blushed a little, realising his slip-up, and shrugged. 

“I’ll explain later. Right now we need to get a doctor here to check on her and…” He looked apologetically at Elena. “I’m sorry, Lena, but I’ll have to leave you in Rufus’s care shortly.”

Elena frowned but it was Rufus that spoke up.

“What? Why?”

“It was Gast just now on the phone. He wants me to go over some of the files we brought from Nibelheim right away.”

Rufus’s blue eyes widened slightly and he nodded.

“I understand. I’ll stay with Elena for as long as I can. If I have to leave for any reason, I’ll make sure someone stays with her at all times.”

“Thank you, Rufus.”

Vincent smiled at Elena and kissed her cheek. 

“Rest up, Elena. I’ll come see you as soon as I can.”

She smiled at him and waved with just her fingers as he stepped out of the room.

Once outside, Vincent called Cloud and arranged to meet him outside of his apartment. 

Cloud was already there when Vincent arrived, carrying a file box with tapes—video and audio—, a tape player, and two binders. One Vincent recognised from Nibelheim and the other seemed to be a compilation of other files and notes Gast had put together for him. 

The blond Soldier smiled when he saw Vincent but there was mild concern in his mako infused eyes.

“Are you sure your eye will be all right, Vincent?”

The gunman smiled as he took the box from the younger man.

“Yes. No need to worry, Cloud. Thanks for everything.”

“No problem. If there’s anything else you need, just give me a call.”

“Actually…” Vincent pondered his request for a minute before deciding to voice it. “Elena just woke up. Rufus is with her but I don’t know how long he can stay with her, and we don’t want her or Kunsel to be on their own. If the need arises…”

“I’ll stay with her,” Cloud said cheerily. “I’ll bring her some flowers and candy. Tifa made fudge last night and I’m sure there’s still some left.”

Vincent smiled and, leaving the box on the floor, hugged Cloud. The blond seemed at a loss for a moment but returned the embrace.

“Thank you, Cloud.”

“Like I said, anything I can do to help.” His expression turned serious as Vincent picked up the box and opened the door to his apartment. “Vincent… whatever is in those files…” Not really knowing how to go on, Cloud simply shook his head. “We’re all here for you. There’s no need to shoulder anything on your own.”

Not wanting to repeat himself, Vincent simply nodded and entered his apartment. 

With a heavy sigh, he locked the door behind him and left the box on the couch while preparing tea. A quick glance at the clock on the wall told him it was seven in the morning; that would make it Wednesday already. He hadn’t slept properly in over twenty-four hours but he found he wasn’t sleepy or particularly tired. That’s how it used to be during that first year back from Nibelheim, back when he could function for over seventy-two hours with little naps in between, sometimes without them. When eating was more of an acquire taste than a habit, when leaving his apartment seemed an insurmountable challenge. 

He looked at the box and found himself not wanting to go anywhere near it.

_You won’t go back to those bleak days. You have the Turks now, plus Cloud, Rufus, even Tifa and Kunsel. Whatever is in those files is in the past. You only need to focus on whatever can help our current situation._

Vincent exhaled shakily and decided to prepare his tea Wutain style. He took his time, meditating over each motion and its meaning, taking in the scents and sounds around him. He drank the first cup in the kitchen, thinking of nothing but the beverage in his hands, repeating a prayer to Leviathan that his mother had taught him as a child. 

The memories of simpler, more peaceful times enveloped him and eased some of his agitation. He went around the apartment lighting incense and stopped at the little shrine he kept in his studio to meditate for a few minutes before returning to the living room and staring at the file box. 

With a decisive nod, he carried it to his studio and unloaded the contents on his recently cleared desk. He soon realised that Gast had labeled everything with numbers so Vincent would know the order in which he should go over the information. Once he had everything arranged in the proper order, he steeled himself and began to read. 

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, all!  
> Sorry it took so long to upload this—I had a heck of a week. Next chapter is in the works and should be up in about a week or so. Then I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until after Valentine’s for chapter 9 ‘cause I gotta work on my girlfriend’s present! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this! Thanks for everyone’s reviews and faves/follows—means a lot to me!


	8. Fail-Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hojo had a lot of fingers in a lot of pies, and he wasn’t afraid to mix and match now and then. Not only that, but the man’s ego drove him to record every little thing he did in one way or another. Thanks to this, Vincent finally has some answers as to why Hojo and Lucrecia used him as Chaos and Galian’s host, as well as how his existence became tangled with those in the Jenova Project. Not only that, he finds out the role his father played in the whole thing. In the end, will the truth be too much for Vincent to bear?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this one’s a little different. A lot of present tense because of Hojo’s journals, for one. I also went a little insane making calculations about people’s birthdays and all. If you have any comments about the format, do let me know—this is highly experimental for me.
> 
> **More notes at the end of the chapter**

 

**FAIL-SAFE**

**Human Resources Personnel File**

_[Stamped in red ink over file’s first page: KILLED IN ACTION]_

Full Name: Vincent Shougo Valentine

Date of birth: 13/October/1941

Place of birth: Wutai

Blood type: A+

Height: 6’ (180cms)

Weight: 165lbs (75kgs)

Particular signs: None

Father: Grimoire Valentine /Deceased February 1963/

Mother: Maeko Muramasa /Deceased February 1954/

Other family: None

Known medical conditions: None

Applied for: Investigation Division of the General Affairs Department (Turks)

Date of application: 18/November/1962

Date of acceptance: 3/May/1963

Assigned to: Investigation Division of the General Affairs Department (Turks)

Supervisor: Ken Ono 

[Added at the bottom of page, handwritten: 

Date of decease: 22/June/1969 

Cause of death: Gunshot wound to the heart.]

 

* * *

 

 

_[The following journal was originally handwritten by Hojo and was, therefore, nearly illegible. I typed it up for ease of reading. – G. Faremis]_

 

* * *

 

**PROJECT CHAOS-V**

**SUBJECTS: VINCENT S. VALENTINE & CHAOS WEAPON *LATER ADDITION: GALIAN***

 

15/November/1968

The HR file on Vincent VALENTINE is inaccurate on one regard. In spite of what his father would have everyone believe, VALENTINE’s genetic makeup is anything but ordinary. The boy was born with a feeble constitution and was prone to numerous infections and illnesses. With the approval of the boy’s mother, Dr. Valentine conducted extensive experiments on his son and other subjects, eventually coming up with a compound that allowed Vincent’s immune system to strengthen well beyond the parameters of a healthy young man. According to Dr. Valentine’s notes _[Appendix G, attached in case you want to review it]_ , after five rounds of inoculations and low-level mako treatments, Vincent became invulnerable to all deceases known to the scientific community and never fell ill again—not even a with a cold or a mild fever. His recovery rate from minor wounds also increased exponentially but no experiments were conducted to determine the limits of the boy’s new abilities.

Vincent was the only subject to receive the treatment—all other children served as donors. 

Dr. Valentine kept this information a secret from everyone but his wife and his two aides. Even Vincent was unaware of the true nature of the procedures he underwent between ages 3 and 8. 

Before passing away at the Crystal Cave, Dr. Valentine entrusted the notes of his experimentation on his son to Professor Crescent. It was his belief that someone like Vincent could be a viable host to CHAOS, allowing him to interact with the WEAPON and experiment on it directly given its rather inconvenient natural state. While Dr. Valentine intended to find a volunteer on which to replicate the procedures he put his son through, it is my belief that simply using Vincent is a far more viable option. For one, it eliminates the possibility of another subject rejecting the treatment, while allowing us to start research almost immediately.

This is why I will request him to be assigned to our security detail when we move to Nibelheim to research CHAOS/OMEGA as an extension of the JENOVA PROJECT.

 

12/January/1969

It appears that VALENTINE shares the same taste in women as his father. He has fallen in love with Professor Crescent, just like Dr. Valentine. Hopefully this will allow us to manipulate him into joining the project. 

 

4/March/1969

VALENTINE has found out about Dr. Crescent’s pregnancy. He knows the child is mine and that we intend to use it as part of the JENOVA PROJECT. Quite unlike his father, he is stubbornly opposed to human experimentation. I wonder what he would do if he ever found out what his father did to him in order to lengthen what would have otherwise been a ridiculously short life. 

I have caught him snooping around on numerous occasions, but so far I doubt he knows the full scope of what we’re planning to do. I am certain he has no idea that we have our sights on him to continue the research his father left unfinished nearly six years ago. 

The time for subtleties will soon pass. I am determined to acquire him as a test subject by any means necessary.

 

1/July/1969

I shot VALENTINE over a week ago. 

He spent the last few months trying to convince Dr. Crescent that our plans to use our son as the main subject in the JENOVA PROJECT were inhuman and morally wrong. She is, however, a true scientist and refuted his every argument. 

In a last effort to bring things to an end, he came to talk to me. He made the same childish, unscientific pleas he tried on Dr. Crescent with similar results. He tested me to the limits of my patience and even threatened to report what we were doing to the Company. I know there is no way they will ever stop me but I would really prefer to be spared the red tape VALENTINE’s whining could cause. This, amongst other things ((like the knowledge that Dr. Crescent does have feelings for VALENTINE (even if she has no intention of acting on them due to the guilt she still feels over Dr. Valentine’s death) and the fact that it became clear that he would never agree to help us with the project even if he learned the truth about his father’s treatments)) led me to lose my patience with the insolent brat and I shot him. Right in the chest, the bullet went. It was quite unexpected, as I had merely intended to incapacitate him long enough to sedate him and take him to the labs. 

But there is something to be said about Dr. Valentine’s treatment of his son’s weak disposition. A wound that would have been fatal on anyone else did severe damage to his cardiac muscle but did not instantly kill him. This gave me enough time to call Dr. Crescent and transport him to the labs. We placed him in one of the mako conservation tanks and managed to slow down his metabolism to the minimum required to keep his brain functions going. 

As I write this, Dr. Crescent is preparing the protomateria she and Dr. Valentine found ten years ago. The plan is to graft it unto Vincent’s body to prime it to receive CHAOS. 

 

15/August/1969

VALENTINE has proven to be a most useful test subject. The combination of his body’s enhanced resilience plus the protomateria’s intrinsic abilities have allowed his body to fully recover from the damage caused by the gunshot wound. This has allowed me to test what his father did not: the limits of his body’s powers of regeneration. So far, he has been able to completely heal all manner of wounds, from cuts and slashes ranging from shallow to life-threateningly deep, to third degree burns—chemical, by fire, and materia-induced.

 

21/August/1969 

At one point, I thought the experimentation had killed him. His heart certainly stopped beating for a prolonged time. Thinking I had pushed him too far, I decided to perform an autopsy. To my surprise, he woke up in the middle of the procedure, screaming and lashing out. He had to be sedated before I could close the autopsy incision. 

It took him less than a day to recover.

We haven’t even added the CHAOS gene to his body.

 

28/August/1969

The CHAOS gene has been introduced in VALENTINE’s body. The results are nothing short of amazing.

The first couple of days were harrowing. It seemed as though the subject’s body was rejecting the new genes, although we soon found out that the host was fighting for dominance over his body with the foreign creature. Eventually, VALENTINE’s resilience drew strength from the protomateria and he was able to best the WEAPON, just like Dr. Valentine and Dr. Crescent had predicted in their research. 

I allowed for a short period of adjustment (36 hours) before testing PROJECT CHAOS-V’s body again. Broken bones now take mere days to mend, and it has even regained sight on both eyes after being burned with acid. Not only that, but its eyesight seems to have been greatly improved. VALENTINE gained himself a reputation as an expert marksman amongst the Turks, but I daresay now that PC-V could break that record without the aide of a sniper scope. Tests show that it is able to regulate the size of his pupils at will depending on the task provided.

Its body has ceased to generate scar tissue after open wounds have healed. There is the faintest discolouration of the skin in the affected area but no scarification per se occurs. However, all scars the subject had before the introduction of CHAOS remain and do not heal as new wounds even when reopened.

I would very much like to continue experimenting on it, but the birth of JENOVA PROJECT S is just around the corner and preparations still need to be made. I will not be getting rid of such an interesting test subject anytime soon, though.

 

20/September/1969

I moved PROJECT CHAOS-V to the catacombs in the basement. I placed it in a coffin with a time-release mechanism programmed to douse it periodically with enough mako-diluted sedatives to keep it in an induced coma until I have time to continue experimenting on it.

 

18/March/1970

I found PROJECT CHAOS-V wandering around the basement late last night. I am unsure how it was able to wake up given the high amount of drugs in his system, although I suspect the time-release mechanism failed at some point. 

This gives me new data to work with, but I cannot risk the subject’s escape. Its raw strength would find no opposition in the lab personnel and explaining the mayhem it could cause in the village would be too troublesome. To avoid further problems, I have installed a backup mechanism in the coffin and a barrier on the main entrances and exits to and from the basement. It’s a simple compound stemmed from a sample I took from the protomateria before implanting it into VALENTINE. I’m almost hoping PROJECT CHAOS-V will try to escape again, just to prove my theory.

 

30/April/1970

PROJECT CHAOS-V broke free of the coffin again but was unable to get past the barrier in the entrance to the tunnels leading to the secondary lab. It took thrice the amount of sedatives to knock it out in order to return it to the coffin. I took a blood sample to determine the cause of this increase in resistance but there is nothing to indicate a significant change in the subject’s makeup. 

The only variable I can think of is JENOVA PROJECT S. He had an adverse reaction to the new mako/JENOVA cocktail we tried to boost his strength. He was also recently weaned due to Dr. Crescent’s poor health and the fact that it is simply inconvenient to work with a lactating subject. All of this contributed to the subject crying for several hours the night in question. The acoustics of the tunnels and basement enhanced the sound, carrying it all the way to the manor as loudly as if the subject were there and not in the labs below. 

It is possible that PROJECT CHAOS-V heard and responded to JENOVA PROJECT S’s anguished cries. It is unclear what its intentions were when it escaped the coffin again but it leaves several possibilities open. I will have it moved to the JENOVA PROJECT laboratories to keep a closer eye on it and do a little multitasking between both projects.

 

05/June/1970

Dr. Crescent passed away this morning. Her body was unable to cope with the effects of the JENOVA cells still in her body after JENOVA PROJECT S’s birth and her systems shut down one by one until her heart failed. I have to wonder what the difference between Dr. Crescent and Gillian Hewley is, given that Gillian is still alive and shows no signs of her health failing. However, this is of little consequence. I am certain JENOVA PROJECT S is superior in all regards to the other JENOVA PROJECTs. Whether or not their biological parents suffer adverse effects because of the JENOVA cells is irrelevant. All that matters is that the final product remains strong and continues to evolve favourably. 

In this regard, Professor Hollander has agreed to a joint experiment involving the cells of our subjects. It will have to wait a few more years until my subject and his are at least four years old and their cells become apt for our purposes. I have already discussed this with the President and we have our pick of the orphaned children currently under the company’s care. 

 

06/July/1970

PROJECT CHAOS-V has been moved to the JENOVA PROJECT laboratories and placed in a conservation tank filled with a mixture of mako and the protomateria distillate that has proven to be so effective in containing the subject. 

The subject spends the vast majority of its time asleep and only seems to wake up when JENOVA PROJECT S is in some kind of distress. While JPS remains asleep or calm, PC-V does not stir. But on those occasions where JPS starts screaming or crying, PC-V invariably opens its eyes and scans the room from the tank, looking for the infant. So far, it has not tried to escape the tank to come to the other subject’s aid but it has moved as if with the intention to go to JPS’s side. 

Perhaps once JPS is older I will allow them to interact directly.

 

01/December/1970

The research team we sent to the Northern Continent some months ago has finally returned. They did not find any more samples related to JENOVA, but they found something related to the CETRA. 

According to a book the team found in the Forgotten Capital of the Cetra, the creature they discovered is called GALIAN. Once numbering in the thousands, it is clear that they have now gone extinct. The reason seems to be the confrontation between JENOVA and the CETRA, in which the GALIAN race had a major hand. Another book found in the same library explains that the GALIAN had always been wary of JENOVA, even when the CETRA trusted it implicitly at the beginning. When it became clear that JENOVA’s intentions were vastly different from what it had originally stated, the CETRA sent GALIAN after the intruder. They were able to weaken it considerably, but the cost was high—they all perished in a most brutal fashion. 

The state of the sample the team brought to me (which appears to be a cub) is a clear testament to that: the remains amount to little more than half of the creature’s head, almost the entirety of its brain, its left arm and leg, part of the hind leg, and a mess of internal organs that include the heart, half a lung, most of the digestive system, and little else. Its DNA has been highly damaged by the subzero temperatures of the Northern Continent, but I may yet be able to work something out. After all, the creature is remarkably similar to the behemoths we are used to, so filling the gaps in the DNA sequence with a close relative is entirely viable.

PROJECT CHAOS-V will come in handy for this. If I manage to reconstruct GALIAN’s DNA and implant it on PC-V in the same fashion as the CHAOS gene, it will not matter that the original creature’s body is too damaged. PC-V will become its host, allowing me to study GALIAN as if it were a prime specimen.

 

05/May/1971

I was finally able to reconstruct GALIAN’s DNA to an acceptable level. Additionally, in order to test the regenerative abilities of PROJECT CHAOS-V, I rebuilt the original GALIAN specimen with samples from three different breeds of behemoth found all around the planet and then introduced a serum synthesised from PC-V’s blood into the specimen. Within a few hours, the amalgamation of GALIAN and behemoth woke up and it remains alive to this point. 

I have yet to decide whether to use GALIAN’s reconstructed DNA when implanting it unto PC-V or if I should take a sample of the revived specimen. The former would guarantee a purer form of GALIAN when PC-V mutates, but the latter would probably ensure a less problematic melding of PC-V and GALIAN. 

Decisions, decisions…

 

06/May/1971

I decided to implant the revived specimen’s DNA (which I have labelled NEO-GALIAN) unto PROJECT CHAOS-V. Unlike the previous time, when CHAOS was introduced to VALENTINE’s body and the reaction was immediate, nothing has happened so far. 

 

09/May/1971

Still no change in PROJECT CHAOS-V after the introduction of NEO-GALIAN’s cells. 

 

01/June/1971

The situation with PROJECT CHAOS-V remains the same after three more rounds of NEO-GALIAN’s genes. At this point I would normally use the original GALIAN’s reconstructed DNA but I must leave for Midgar indefinitely. I am locking up all labs and leaving two of my aides in charge. All projects are suspended until my return.

 

16/August/1976

I am finally back at Nibelheim. JENOVA PROJECT S has been placed in advanced courses back in Midgar and the first steps have been taken to instate the SOLDIER PROGRAM to which JPS, JPA, and JPG will be attached when they turn thirteen. 

My prolonged stay at Midgar was tedious but not without its uses. For one, Hollander found the perfect test subjects for our wager. Three brothers, all close in age to JENOVA PROJECTS S (6), A (7), and G (7). Their names are Kadaj (SUBJECT SB), Loz (SUBJECT AB), and Yazoo (SUBJECT GB), no registered parents or other relatives.*

* [SUBJECT SB is six years old; SUBJECT AB is eight years old; SUBJECT GB is nine and a half years old.]

I will keep the subjects in the JENOVA PROJECT laboratory along with GALIAN, PROJECT CHAOS-V, and two more samples I procured while in Midgar that I intend to implant unto PC-V once I manage to implant GALIAN successfully unto it. After reviewing my previous notes on this journal, my curiosity about PC-V’s reaction to JPS has been reawakened. I’ll start my observations by keeping it and the three new subjects in the same laboratory and then take it from there.

* * *

 

 

_[At this point, I suggest you watch the video tape labelled CCTV-JPL before continuing with Hojo’s notes. – G. Faremis]_

 

* * *

 

**CCTV-JPL**

 

**CCTV – CAMERA 1 [JENOVA PROJECT Lab]**

**Date: 1976/10/13**

**Time: 05:10:09**

((The video is in colour but there is no audio.))

 

Eight tanks appear on the camera’s range along the left side of the screen. In order, they are labeled PROJECT SB, PROJECT GB, PROJECT AB, GALIAN BEAST, CHAOS, HELL MASKER, DEATH GIGAS, and JENOVA. 

The first three tanks are occupied by young children, all with silver hair and pale skin, all of them dressed neck to toes in black leather. These tanks are filled with a pale green substance that glows faintly—it is likely a mako solution. The children float in the substance, apparently asleep.

The next tank harbours a small behemoth-like creature made up of several different tissue samples. It floats in mako, twitching occasionally but otherwise unmoving.

The fifth tank is occupied by Vincent’s body. The substance he floats in is a murky shade of green and, while it glows like mako, it is clear that it’s something else. Unlike the children, Vincent appears to be awake, although his eyes are golden and not crimson, suggesting Chaos is in control of the body he now shares with the gunman. His right hand is pressed against the tank’s wall but he doesn’t appear to make any effort to break the material.

The Hell Masker and Death Gigas tanks are filled with mako but appear otherwise empty _[Vincent zooms in and realises that there is a small tissue sample inside each tank]_. 

The last tank, bigger than the rest and filled with a substance that is not mako, holds Jenova’s body, its only visible eye closed. There is a helmet on its head with several tubes and cables attached that go up into the tank’s lid and leave the laboratory through the roof. 

At first, everything appears to be calm. If not for the soft movements of those inside the tanks, the image could be mistaken for a photograph. 

About a minute into the recording, Project AB opens his eyes and starts pushing against the glass with his whole body: he is leaning against the glass behind him with his back and arms while he braces his feet in front of him. It takes about fifty seconds of this before a crack appears on the glass between his feet; another thirty seconds and the crack extends all around the conservation tank, mako trickling through the fissures. A minute later the tank bursts, sending glass flying everywhere while mako leaks all over the floor. 

AB manages to avoid the broken glass and lands safely on the floor. He is drenched in mako and is breathing heavily but appears unharmed. He looks towards his right and realises a piece of his conservation tank has embedded itself on GB’s tank, allowing mako to trickle out of the crack. GB is still either asleep or unconscious inside his tank. AB walks around to SB’s tank and sees he is awake. They look at each other for a moment without saying anything. After a few seconds, AB nods and goes to GB’s tank. He examines the crack on it for a moment before punching next to the piece of glass sticking out of the tank. This causes the tank to burst, sending glass flying in all directions. Most of it misses both AB and GB but some shards reach AB, embedding themselves on his arms as he tried to cover his face. He seems not to notice as he reaches forward to catch GB before he collapses on the jagged edge of the tank. 

While AB is helping GB out of the tank’s remains, SB has managed to escape his tank in the same fashion as AB did before. He goes to his brothers’ side to help them but stops on his tracks. He stares at Galian’s tank with a confused look on his face _[Vincent pauses the video for a moment to try to figure out what caught SB’s attention; he realises Galian is ramming himself against the tank’s walls, apparently trying to escape]_. He shouts something at his brothers as he summons a double-bladed katana out of thin air and jumps in front of them. He is barely in time to deflect a swipe of Galian’s claws that was apparently aimed at GB. He shouts again, frantically motioning for his brothers to move back while he continues to block Galian’s attacks. 

AB half carries GB away from the struggle but their going is very slow. GB is barely able to walk by himself so AB ends up carrying him on his back. They disappear from the shot at this point.

While Galian and SB continue to fight all over the place, Project Chaos-V is pressing both hands against the glass, watching the fight intently. His skin ripples for a moment; he then closes his eyes and the tank empties before opening. Chaos-V opens his eyes: the left eye is red, the right eye is golden. He makes his way to the centre of the room where SB and Galian are still fighting; his movements are slow and hesitant at first, but he quickly recovers and nearly glides as he approaches the struggle. His right arm transforms into Chaos’s claw and he extends it towards Galian, apparently calling his name. Galian stops moving but he’s still baring his fangs to SB. Seeing an opening, the boy doesn’t hesitate before attacking Galian, aiming for his throat. 

In a blur of movement, Chaos-V flings Galian out of the way with his left arm and parries SB’s swing with his right claw. SB recovers swiftly and redirects his blade, cutting Chaos-V’s abdomen. The angle of the camera does not allow the viewer to see the extent of the damage done to Chaos-V but SB’s triumphant expression quickly changes to confusion and panic. Chaos-V doesn’t flinch or sway; his only reaction to the attack is to snatch SB’s katana and to toss it out of the boy’s reach. As he does so, SB takes two steps back and brings a hand to his forehead. He appears to scream before doubling over and bringing his other hand to his head. He is shaking and crying. Chaos-V takes a step forward, his right claw returning to its human form as he reaches forward towards SB. Chaos-V stops all movement when a single, large black wing sprouted from SB’s right shoulder blade. SB falls to his knees and topples over under the weight of the wing. He quickly recovers, standing up and fully unfurling his wing. Chaos-V blocks most of SB from view but SB’s arms are visible as he extends them; there is a greenish black vapour surrounding him.

Chaos-V tenses up and transforms into Chaos, attacking SB. The first attack seems to fail and Chaos-V jumps back, knocking over several carts and the trays on them. SB follows him, either floating or flying. The fight quickly becomes a blur of green/black and red/black to the camera but it ends less than forty seconds after it started. Chaos-V has several open wounds on his arms and back that are healing as he stands over SB’s limp form. SB’s wing is gone and he’s covered in blood, curled up on his side. It is unclear whether the boy is alive or not. Chaos-V’s looks at the boy for a moment without moving. A few seconds later he returns to Vincent’s form, his eyes back to red. Again, he looks at the boy for a moment as if he’s not sure of what just happened. 

_[Vincent rewinds the tape. After all three boys are out of their tanks, the liquid Jenova that is floating in begins to bubble and its eye opens; it glows a pinkish shade of red. When Galian attacks the B subjects, Jenova jerks in the tank before opening its mouth in an apparent scream. One of the tubes comes off the helmet when SB confronts Chaos-V. At this point, Jenova is trashing about in the tank, and only stops when Chaos-V returns to Vincent’s form. There is no more movement in the tank afterwards.]_

In the upper corner of the recording, GB is visible again. There is a rapier in his left hand and he’s trying to get to Chaos-V. AB is holding on to his right arm, trying to stop him and drag him back. GB’s body is disintegrating and turning into something akin to ashes; there is a greenish black vapour surrounding him, too. By the time he arrives to the centre of the room, his legs are completely grey and he collapses on the floor. He tries to crawl the remaining distance but he is unable to, although he is still holding on to his sword. AB kneels next to him and tries to carry him but GB’s body simply crumbles away wherever AB touches it. AB is crying and panicking. GB’s eyes eventually close and he stops moving. AB tries to hold him but ends up with only ashes in his arms. In the end, all that is left of GB is his head and part of his torso.

Chaos-V has looked on with disinterest, still standing next to SB’s body. When AB just stays put after GB’s death, Chaos-V looks at him and says something. AB shakes his head while Chaos-V speaks but eventually he dries his face and stands up. He picks GB’s rapier and it transforms into a broadsword in his hands. He takes a last look at SB and the remains of GB on the floor before running out of frame. 

Chaos-V returns his gaze to SB. He kneels next to the boy and nudges him. SB stirs weakly and tries to move away from Chaos-V; he stops moving after a couple of tries. Chaos-V carries SB and walks towards his tank. He slumps against it and slides to the floor, cradling SB in his arms.

((Video cuts to CCTV2.))

 

**CCTV – CAMERA 2 [JPL Control Room]**

**Date: 1976/10/13**

**Time: 05:17:43**

((The video is in colour but there is no audio.))

 

AB comes running into the control room, sword in hand. There is no one in the room. He goes around the console and towards the door but quickly jumps back. Two armed technicians come in and back AB against the console. He is shouting and using his sword as a shield. An argument seems to take place and it ends when one of the technicians starts shooting. AB is hit twice—once in the shoulder, once on his thigh—while the other bullets smash the instruments on the console and the items on the shelves. AB dashes forward and kills both men. Limping, he tries to exit again but Hojo comes in and shoots him between the eyes. AB falls limply to the floor and the sword disappears from his hands.

Hojo takes out a radio and speaks to it briefly. He shoves the radio back into his lab coat as he stares at AB’s corpse. He shakes his head slowly before walking towards the lab.

 

**CCTV – CAMERA 1 [JENOVA PROJECT Lab]**

**Date: 1976/10/13**

**Time: 05:20:55**

 

Chaos-V is still cradling SB’s body with his right hand over the boy’s chest, which is now visible to the camera _[Vincent pauses the video and zooms in; there are tears on his (Chaos-V’s) face]_. Five long gashes have rent open SB’s chest cavity and Chaos-V is apparently trying to keep the flaps of skin together. His hands are stained with SB’s blood. A minute later he presses his ear to SB’s chest. A ragged sob wracks him as he shakes his head and leaves the body on the floor by his tank. As soon as the boy’s wing touches the floor, it dissolves, leaving behind a lot of long, black feathers.

Chaos-V’s skin is rippling again as he stands up and walks towards Jenova’s tank. His eyes turn red as he stops in front of Jenova. The creature inside the tank retreats towards the back, shaking violently. Several tubes and cables detach from the helmet and Jenova’s body, leaking fluid into the substance filling the tank, clouding it. 

Chaos-V slowly transforms into Chaos. His wings are still unfurling when Hojo comes into view and calmly goes to a cabinet on the far right of the room, extracting a syringe and vial from it. He prepares it even as Chaos is finishing his transformation and Jenova continues to trash about in its tank. Chaos opens his right claw and a bright sphere of light begins forming between his fingers. He bares his fangs at Jenova and draws his arm back as if to hurl the sphere at it but he just collapses. The sphere disappears and Chaos curls up, folding his wings around him as protection. There is a syringe stuck between his shoulder blades. 

Hojo approaches Chaos slowly, prodding him with his foot a few times. Chaos doesn’t move and, a few seconds later, he returns to Vincent’s form. Chaos-V turns his head and glares at Hojo before losing consciousness. Hojo is smiling as he removes the syringe from Chaos-V’s back; he then takes out a notepad and begins scribbling away on it.

((Video fades to black.))

* * *

 

**HOJO’S PROJECT CHAOS-V JOURNAL—CONTINUED**

 

18/October/1976

The laboratory is a mess and the joint experiment with Hollander has come to an abrupt end. However, last week’s events have provided a valuable insight into the future of the JENOVA PROJECT and the alternate uses of PROJECT CHAOS-V.

Initially, SUBJECTs SB, AB, and GB responded favourably to the introduction of the original subjects’ genes. Their physical strength increased but they continued to show signs of stress and depression brought on, presumably, by their confinement to the conservation tubes and their isolation from each other (the subjects were remarkably close to each other, with SUBJECT GB displaying a strong sense of protection and responsibility for his younger siblings). 

However, as it is further detailed in the JENOVA PROJECT JOURNAL, the subjects began displaying the same adverse characteristics as the originals, only exponentially, both in speed and severity. SUBJECT SB began hearing JENOVA’s voice in his head and was unable to tune her out, leading to debilitating headaches that rendered him nearly useless. SUBJECT GB’s system began to degrade, weakening him to the point where even walking was an insurmountable chore; four weeks after the implant, his coagulation factor became nearly non-existent and he began to shed skin and hair like a feline. Although, for some reason, his skin and hair renewed sufficiently fast to keep him from going bald or leaving his flesh exposed, his coagulation levels continued to decrease. SUBJECT AB’s symptoms were less obvious and far more intriguing. As Hollander intended, JENOVA PROJECT A is able to pass on his genetic information to other subjects, effectively creating copies of himself. However, the copies never last more than a few weeks. SUBJECT AB has outlasted all of the copies Hollander has made thus far, although he is ageing faster than he did before the gene splicing and is unable to pass on his traits to other subjects. On the other hand, he seemed able to ease the side effects of SUBJECT GB’s degradation, at least temporarily. There was not sufficient time to test this link further, but there was enough tissue left from all B SUBJECTS to continue the research even after their death.

The CCTV footage will further illustrate what happened, so I will dwell little on the incident itself and focus on what it means in the long term. 

The B SUBJECTS seemed to have developed a telepathic link that allowed them to come up with an escape plan, which they implemented at a time of day when security was minimal. Whether they were aware of the fact that SUBJECT GB’s stress levels would make it impossible for him to get out alive or not is still up to debate. Perhaps they decided to push their plan forward because of his deteriorating condition. The fact remains that even if NEO-GALIAN hadn’t escaped its conservation tank and attacked them, triggering the ensuing disaster, SUBJECT GB would not have made it out of the mansion alive. Analysis of his remains shows that he would have crumbled away on his own within days; the attempted escape and N-G’s attack only accelerated the process.

Without any of the B SUBJECTS to explain it, I can only theorise as to the nature of JENOVA’s intervention. The B SUBJECTS had been in the same laboratory as JENOVA, NEO-GALIAN, CHAOS-V and the other two samples for two months without any reactions, negative or otherwise. It is very likely that JENOVA was trying to aid the B SUBJECTS in their escape, perhaps hoping to influence them so they would set it free. If this is the case, it certainly falls in line with the JENOVA REUNION THEORY I have described at length in the JENOVA PROJECT JOURNAL.

* * *

_[I have transcribed a fragment of the journal Hojo kept for the Jenova project that explains his thoughts on the Reunion Theory. - G. Faremis]_

* * *

 

**HOJO’S JENOVA PROJECT JOURNAL**

**JENOVA REUNION THEORY**

 

After observing JENOVA’s cells during the past few months, I have detected an interesting phenomenon that I will henceforth refer to as the JENOVA REUNION THEORY. When JENOVA’s cells are separated from the main body, they will invariably and instinctually seek to reunite with their parent soma. This “REUNION INSTINCT” is not limited to pure JENOVA cells, but to any living organism that has been injected with JENOVA’s cells and is capable of conscious movement. Even if for some reason they try to refuse this impulse, JENOVA’s main body will call to them until they comply.

We have observed this phenomenon on individual and grouped cells within petri dishes and test tubes: when left alone, they will always move or shift in the direction of JENOVA’s main body whether the cells or JENOVA itself are moved to a new location. We will look for the same reaction in the three children used for the JENOVA PROJECT.

* * *

**HOJO’S PROJECT CHAOS-V JOURNAL—CONTINUED**

 

18/October/1976

After communicating the incident in the labs to Hollander in Midgar, he told me that on the day in question, JENOVA PROJECTS S, A, and G reported feeling anxious. When checking the timing of their distress, we concluded that the episode coincided with the beginning and ending of the incident at the Nibelheim lab. Furthermore, JPG reported ghost pains all over his body while JPS heard JENOVA’s voice. According to him, JENOVA was angry and frustrated and, at one point, scared. 

After examining N-G, I have concluded that its reaction to the B SUBJECTS was spurred on by JENOVA’s unusual activity and the presence of SUBJECT AB’s blood after the glass from SUBJECT GB’s tank injured his arm and face. Perhaps the fact that N-G’s DNA was mixed with a behemoth’s precluded it from reacting to JENOVA’s proximity. It is strange, however, that it reacted to a subject without pure JENOVA cells in its body. Further experimentation with GALIAN will need to be done to determine exactly what triggers its instinct to attack JENOVA.

As for JENOVA’s involvement in the incident, I believe it recognised N-G as a threat and tried to goad SUBJECT SB into killing it. The fact that SB was able to summon a sword out of nowhere seems to be an inherent ability of those injected with JENOVA cells (the video doesn’t show it, but it is safe to assume SUBJECT GB summoned his weapon in the same fashion; that SUBJECT GB reshaped the rapier into a broadsword instead of summoning his own weapon suggests some sort of sentimentalism associated to his deceased brother, while also supporting this theory). This is another phenomenon that we will look for in the original JENOVA PROJECT SUBJECTS, along with the appearance of wings and the presence of the mysterious black-and-green miasma surrounding the bodies of SUBJECT SB and SUBJECT GB*. It is also of some importance to note that SUBJECT AB did not present this miasma at any point during the events at the lab and control room, not even after his death.

{* _Hojo’s annotation: This could be a manifestation of LIFESTREAM tainted by JENOVA. Further experimentation should be able to clear this point._ } 

JENOVA’s reaction to PC-V’s transformation and attack was clear: JENOVA feared PC-V’s power and was trying to escape, limited as its movements were. PROJECT CHAOS-V did not appear to react to JENOVA itself until after SUBJECT SB’s death; furthermore, PC-V seems to have reacted strongly only to SUBJECT SB’s demise, completely ignoring or simply not responding to SUBJECT GB’s attempted attack and subsequent passing. Since PC-V refuses to communicate with me or anyone else on staff, it is impossible to determine what it was he told SUBJECT AB before he (AB) left the laboratory*. The simplest explanation would be that PC-V told AB to leave before security arrived but it clashes with PC-V’s previous disregard towards SUBJECTs AB and GB. 

As far as JENOVA and CHAOS are concerned, it is not clear whether their apparent enmity is a natural occurrence or if PC-V somehow became biased due to VALENTINE’s feelings. As stated before, PC-V and JENOVA had been in close proximity at the labs and neither had shown signs of acknowledging the other’s presence, let alone becoming hostile towards the other. Even during the incident, PC-V only sprung into action when N-G attacked the B SUBJECTS, going as far as trying to stop it. However, PC-V also seemed to be protecting N-G from SUBJECT SB’s attack. It would be interesting to know the reasoning behind PC-V’s actions but, again, the subject refuses to speak. Sometimes, however, myself and some of the aides have noticed that the subject’s eyes change colour between their natural red and a glowing gold. My current hypothesis is that, somehow, CHAOS is sometimes in control of the body it shares with its host. Why it does not try to escape or at least lash out at those times is a mystery that I would very much like to clear up.

 _{*Hojo’s annotation: After reviewing my notes and all footage pertaining to PC-V, I realised that this incident was the first time since the introduction of the protomateria or the CHAOS gene that PC-V has spoken or willingly interacted with anyone.}_  

I will attempt to graft the original GALIAN’s DNA to PC-V in the next few days. I tried it three days after the incident but the subject was more aggressive and uncooperative than usual so I decided to give it time to calm down before trying again. In the meantime, I have moved it and all other samples to the first underground laboratory, as it was easier to do than trying to clean up and fix the JENOVA PROJECT laboratory.

 

22/October/1976

I have implanted the original GALIAN’s DNA unto PROJECT CHAOS-V. Unlike last time, the subject absorbed and assimilated the new DNA without problems. I am unsure if CHAOS’s presence in the host eased the process, but there was far less resistance than when we introduced the CHAOS gene and the adjustment time was of mere hours compared to the three days it took for the host to contain CHAOS. 

As a precaution, I will wait a few more days before taking PC-V to the Mt. Nibel cave system to attempt to trigger its transformation into GALIAN in order to extract tissue samples and observe its behaviour.

 

30/October/1976

We took PROJECT CHAOS-V to one of the caves along Mt. Nibel three days ago. 

As it is detailed in VIDEO PC-V 2 _[Attached as stated—G. Faremis]_ , the procedure allowed us to recreate GALIAN almost perfectly through PC-V’s body. The creature is strong and highly feral, but the host was able to claim control over it in less than three minutes, rendering GALIAN mostly harmless. One of the aides was injured when he tried to approach the subject to take a hair sample for testing, but he will survive. 

The test results on the sample are encouraging. More than 80% of the DNA belongs to GALIAN. It seems that, with help from CHAOS and the host’s own altered biochemistry and genetic makeup, GALIAN was able to reconstruct itself making use of the behemoths’ genetic information. 

 

4/November/1976

After keeping PROJECT CHAOS/G’s (PROJECT CHAOS/GALIAN) under observation the last five days, I have decided not to implant the DEATH GIGAS and HELL MASKER genes on PC-V. 

Apparently, adding the GALIAN gene has taken its toll on PC-V’s mental stability. Initially, it seemed that GALIAN was easy for PC-V to keep under control, but the past two days it has managed to overrule and take over its host’s body several times—always briefly, but it is a matter of concern, all the same. 

Most interesting, however, is the fact that PC-V has been asking questions about JENOVA PROJECT S and Dr. Crescent. Out of scientific curiosity, I explained to it that Dr. Crescent passed away and that JPS is back at Midgar. When I asked if it remembered last month’s incident involving the B SUBJECTS, PC-V denied all knowledge of the event. Even when I supplied it with clues it claimed not to know what I was talking about. Some other aspects from the near past seem to be completely gone from its memory, as well, while details of VALENTINE’s life appear to be intact. The subject also appears to be aware of GALIAN’s presence in its body. Finally, I inquired about JENOVA and the subject’s eyes flickered rapidly between crimson and gold for a few seconds before settling back to crimson. The subject hasn’t said anything since.

This case of retrograde amnesia seems to have been caused by the introduction of the GALIAN gene, which seems to have taken up space in the areas of the host’s brain that retained the memory of the incident at the laboratory. Whether this is a chance occurrence or not is impossible to determine, but I will say that I do not believe in such coincidences.

 

6/November/1976

I have tested the response of PROJECT CHAOS/G’s (PROJECT CHAOS/GALIAN) cells to pure and hybrid JENOVA cells at a cellular level. 

In all instances in which I introduced PC/G to hybrid JENOVA cells (a sample each taken from the B SUBJECTS’ remains), JENOVA’s samples reacted violently as soon as PC/G was added to the petri dish; PC/G attacked immediately, too. The results varied as to which sample overtook the other, but whenever PC/G managed to neutralise JENOVA’s cells, it would only last for a few minutes before degrading or dissolving entirely. This corroborates the data we have about the GALIAN race’s confrontation with JENOVA at the Northern Continent ages ago. Whenever JENOVA managed to defeat PC/G, it attempted to assimilate its opponent’s cells but failed every time. SUBJECT GB’s samples deteriorated faster afterwards, while SUBJECT AB and SUBJECT SB’s samples showed no change.

For some reason, pure JENOVA cells do not react to PC/G’s presence at all. I repeated the experiment several times with the same results: JENOVA would just sit on the petri dish, making no attempt at defending itself or attacking PC/G, and every single time it would be defeated. In turn, PC/G would invariably degrade and die within minutes of absorbing JENOVA.

From this I can only conclude that JENOVA’s main body knows it is physically weaker than PC/G and doesn’t even try to stop it from killing it because it knows that, somehow, its cells are poisonous to PC/G. This is perhaps how JENOVA managed to decimate the GALIAN race in the Northern Continent—a sort of biochemical war tactic, as it were. Hybrid JENOVA cells appear to be influenced by their host’s survival instincts and thus put up a fight that they can win 2/3 times. 

I also had pure JENOVA samples interact with PROJECT CHAOS-V in petri dishes and the results mimic what happened at the lab: JENOVA tried to escape while PC-V always found a way to quickly exterminate it. Afterwards, PC-V’s cells remain intact and healthy. I replicated the experiments with small animals from the region and the results were invariably the same. This leads me to believe that PC-V may be the only creature in the Planet capable of defeating JENOVA without incurring in serious physical injuries. 

However, PC-V did not attack hybrid JENOVA tissue from any of the B SUBJECTS. I had Hollander send me tissue samples of all three JENOVA PROJECT SUBJECTS and ran the tests again with the same results. When adding PC/G to the mix, PC-V stood between JENOVA and GALIAN as if trying to stop the conflict; when it failed to rein in GALIAN, PC-V chose to attack JENOVA rather than the other creature. This falls in line with Dr. Valentine and Dr. Crescent’s theory that CHAOS is meant to protect the Planet’s soul (the LIFESTREAM) from alien invasions in order to preserve its purity and integrity to the end of its days. 

 

9/November/1976

I received a call from Hollander last night about an incident involving JENOVA PROJECT S back in Midgar. 

During JPS’s training, the subject lost control of his body as he heard JENOVA’s voice. When questioned later, JPS stated that JENOVA wanted to be freed and was asking him to release it from its tank here in Nibelheim. The subject tried to ignore the voice but it resulted in the most vicious telepathic attack from JENOVA thus far. In the time it took Hollander and the aides to locate the necessary sedatives, JPS killed two of his sparring partners and injured three more. 

Usually, the sedatives we use with the JENOVA PROJECT SUBJECTS take less than twenty seconds to take effect. This time, however, Hollander has reported that it took three rounds of sedatives and ten minutes for JPS to become unconscious. Hollander is currently conducting a series of tests and analyses on JPS but I believe I know what the overall results will be: an increase in the JENOVA cell count for subject JPS and the other two, as well. At the time, this is something we can absolutely deal with by mixing better and stronger sedatives that target JENOVA faster and more efficiently. However, I am afraid that our attempts to clone JPS, JPA, or JPG will bear nothing but abject failure. The best we can do in order to deliver the army President Shinra wants is to come up with an enhancing mako- and JENOVA-based serum to boost optimal individuals’ inherent abilities rather than breed an army in laboratory test tubes.

As for the JENOVA PROJECT SUBJECTS, we will exploit them to the best of our (and their) abilities. It is clear, though, that we need a way to deactivate the subjects should JENOVA become a threat to everyone involved. 

To this end, I have begun the development of my next idea: PROJECT FAIL-SAFE.

 

11/January/1977

In the past weeks and as part of PROJECT FAIL-SAFE, I have been able to create a compound based on SUBJECT AB’s remains that, at least in laboratory experiments, has proven to be an effective ‘cure’ for JENOVA PROJECT G’s cellular degradation. However, given the unstable situation within the Science Department and my recent disputes with the President, I will keep this compound stashed here in Nibelheim. I intend to use it to undermine Hollander’s reputation in the future, should the need arise.

While it seems impossible to revert or even stop JENOVA PROJECT A’s ability to create copies of himself (or to keep these copies from degrading within days or weeks), I did manage to come up with a stabilising agent for the subject’s accelerated metabolism. Since the subject is in relatively good health and there is nothing to be gained by keeping this serum with me, I have sent it to Hollander to be administered at his leisure. If nothing else, I expect him to think of it as a token of good will on my behalf, which might encourage him to tone down his underhanded attacks against me. 

As for JENOVA PROJECT S and finding a way to deactivate him and the other two subjects without killing them, things are far from over.

My first thought when tackling the possibility of shutting down the project was to find a way to remove JENOVA’s cells from the subjects that had been injected with them. After many experiments, I have determined that this is impossible. Every single organism that became host to JENOVA’s cells died after said cells were removed. It is clear that JENOVA replaced too much of the hosts’ DNA with its own, effectively becoming a parasite without which the host cannot hope to survive. 

The alternative to this is to somehow deactivate JENOVA without removing it. I thought it would be a matter of replacing JENOVA’s DNA with healthy human DNA, preferably the host’s or a close relative’s, but this has proven impossible, too. JENOVA viciously attacks the new DNA, causing a myriad of side effects on the hosts that have led to their death in more than 75% of the recorded cases. Survivors are left with an extremely weakened immune system, which allows JENOVA to take over more and more of its host’s DNA until it completely overruns them. In these cases, all subjects have mutated into highly aggressive specimens, most of which had to be terminated because we were unable to properly contain them. 

{It is worth mentioning that I am close to coming up with the correct proportions of mako-to-JENOVA cells to use as the base for the SOLDIER COMPOUND thanks to these experiments.}

Right now my biggest lead is JENOVA PROJECT S. With the exception of JENOVA’s occasional psychic attacks, the subject exhibits no adverse physical side effects to JENOVA’s cells. His hybrid DNA might hold the key to a deactivating compound.

 

20/March/1977

I have been reviewing the files and journals I’ve kept on all on-going projects hoping to find a way to deactivate JENOVA. I think I found it within PROJECT CHAOS/GALIAN-V and JENOVA PROJECT S.

The first thing I had to do was to give up the idea of coming with an universal deactivating compound for JENOVA. Because of the creature’s innate ability to mutate not only its own DNA but that of its hosts’, as well, it is impossible for any one compound to work on all subjects. This being the case, I have concluded that the only subject that poses a real threat at this point (or in the future) is JPS, given that he is the only one of the three subjects that is susceptible to JENOVA’s influence. As it were, JENOVA PROJECT G was conceived with a fail-safe of his own, while JENOVA PROJECT A seems to have inherited all the benefits with minimal disadvantages, particularly now that Hollander has reported that the serum I provided him with has successfully stabilised the subject’s metabolism. 

After weeks of trial and error, I have finally found a compound capable of muting JENOVA’s influence over its hosts—this has proven effective in over 95% of the samples I have tried it on. However, this is only a palliative solution. I fully expect JENOVA to adapt to and eventually override the serum, rendering it ineffective. For the time being, though, it should minimise the frequency and strength of JENOVA’s attacks on JPS and perhaps aid in slowing down JPG’s degradation rate. 

Additionally to this, I have decided to use JPS as the ultimate bargaining chip in a doomsday scenario for myself. For this, I also need PC/G-V. 

The tests I conducted after last October’s events made it clear that CHAOS is the ideal opponent for JENOVA: it is capable of eliminating the alien organism without having to sacrifice its own life. However, it does not target hybrid JENOVA cells of its own accord—it only did it to defend GALIAN who, on the other hand, attacks JENOVA instinctually whether the target is pure or hybrid. My plan, then, is as follows:

I will alter GALIAN’s gene within PC/G-V to turn it more aggressive and get it to try to gain control of its host’s body at a predetermined time bybreaking whatever restraints CHAOS and/or VALENTINE might have created around it. Should this fail, the programming would provide GALIAN with the necessary tools to influence CHAOS to act adopt GALIAN’s directive. In either scenario, PC-V would be compelled to find JPS through the JENOVA cells in his body and attack it. In scenario a), CHAOS would have to take over again at some point to try to protect GALIAN, killing JPS in the process, while in scenario b) any misgivings PC-V might have about attacking JPS would be rendered invalid by GALIAN’s programming.

Ideally, I will be able to trigger and deactivate the FAIL-SAFE PROGRAM as I see fit/necessary. However, in the event of my untimely death, I will also alter JPS’s DNA to emit a mating call for GALIAN to lock on to when he (JPS) turns 30 years of age—the prime of his abilities, both physical and mental. If I’m not around to see my most important project reach the peak of his abilities, no one should have the privilege, either. 

As for why a mating call… Other than the undeniable power of pheromones, I’m hoping VALENTINE will be able to figure out what’s going on in the final moments of his beloved Lucrecia’s son’s life. The anguish that would cause him is incentive enough to resort to such a crude solution.

I have not come up with a way to deactivate FSP yet, but I should be able to figure it out soon.

 

3/April/1977

I have finished altering GALIAN’s DNA and I implanted it on PC-V yesterday. There are no external markers of any change in the subject yet.

 

6/April/1977

PC-V seems to have readjusted to the new GALIAN implant without problems. I will conduct a series of experiments in a few days to determine if GALIAN’s new programming took.

 

12/April/1977

GALIAN’s programming took but PC-V is somehow deteriorating. When we took it to the cave system to see if it would react adequately to the presence of hybrid JENOVA tissue, GALIAN had little trouble taking over its host’s body and it took PC-V a significantly long amount of time to regain control after the garget had been neutralised. Stress tests show that PC-V’s endurance and strength have decreased since the last reading. Its mental stability seems to be at risk, too—more and more we have noticed that the subject’s eyes switch between their natural red, a bright gold, and a murky orange. For some reason, the subject has lost some of its ability to dominate the creatures within it. The only explanation lies in some problem with the protomateria which will have to be tested.

 

20/April/1977

The protomateria appears to be decaying due to the stress we have put PC-V through in the last few months. The fact that about 10% of it is missing because of the samples we took is also a contributing factor. 

The sedatives I concocted based on the protomateria should be enough to keep PC-V stable for many years to come. Should they run out or become insufficient, the only alternative would be to recharge the protomateria at the Crystal Cave. Currently I will solely rely on the sedatives because I have to return to Midgar soon to start working on the programming for JENOVA PROJECT S’s side of FAIL-SAFE while the trials for the SOLDIER PROGRAM and the serum I designed for it begin.

 

28/May/1977

I have to be back in Midgar on the first of June so I’m sealing the laboratory today. PROJECT CHAOS-V has already been moved back to its coffin and all the necessary precautions have been taken to prevent its escape. I will live one of the aides in charge of the manor just in case, and I will be leaving everything pertaining to PROJECT CHAOS-V and PROJECT FAIL-SAFE here, including all the compounds stemmed from those researches. Hopefully they will remain a secret until I have use for them.

Any further research will be documented in the JENOVA PROJECT JOURNAL.

* * *

 

_[This letter was in the original binder of Project Fail-Safe. The envelope, as you can see, was opened a long time ago, but the wax seal remains intact. I have not read it, but I have no doubt that Hojo did, at some point.— G. Faremis]_  

 

* * *

 

13/October/1960

Dearest Vincent,

Clichéd as this may sound, if you are reading this letter, then I am most likely dead and I never got a chance to explain to you the truth behind all the strangely coloured drinks and painful injections I gave you when you were a child. I will do my best to explain it now in hopes that you will understand why I did it and will find it in your heart to forgive me. You have always been a kind man thanks to your mother’s influence, but I am afraid that you inherited my uncompromising disposition when it comes to ethics. I am hoping that, at least in this case, nurture trumps nature.

The easiest way to start is by saying that you were, in spite of our best efforts, a rather sickly child. No matter what we did, no matter how much we tried to shield you from anything that could get you ill, you always wound up with severe flues that turned into pneumonia, stomach bugs that led to extreme dehydration, mild fevers that escalated into life-threatening pyrexia. You spent most of your second year of life in the hospital, and more than once we nearly lost you to one infection or another. 

Unwilling to lose you at such a young age, I endeavoured to find what it was that made you so susceptible to illnesses. What I found was a severe deficiency in your immune system, one that would not be easily remedied by bone marrow transplants or anything else the medicine of the time could had in stock. Knowing this I talked to your mother and together we decided that it would be best if I dedicated all my time, efforts, and resources to finding a way to strengthen your immune system so you could grow up like any normal child. To this end we left Wutai and moved to Midgar permanently. Your mother was saddened by this, given that she had never been away from her homeland and her family, but she was determined to make that sacrifice if it meant giving you the chance to live a healthy, normal life. You were not happy about the change in scenery, either, but you adjusted quickly enough to life in the big city, although the move took its toll on you and you were bedridden for the first few weeks. 

The first thing I did was find the healthiest children in the largest Shinra-sponsored orphanage and analyse their genetic makeup to compare it to yours. As it turns out, a genetic mutation from my side of the family was responsible for all your hardships. I had to find a way to replace the mutated gene with a normal one that would not alter your genetic makeup beyond boosting your immune system but it was impossible. When combined with your DNA, every single sequence I found resulted in altered states that were unconscionable at best, horrific at worst. I was about to give up when I found a sequence that would not only boost your immune system and bring it to a normal level for someone your age, but that could render you impervious to almost every decease known to the medical community at the time. It would also greatly expand your pain threshold and enhance your healing abilities well beyond the human limits. (I will not bore you with the technical details in this letter, but I am attaching your real medical file in case you want to go over it for whatever reason.)

Again, I consulted with your mother before administering you the serums that would make your recovery a reality. Together, we decided that it would be best not to tell you what I was doing. We also decided that we wouldn’t tell anyone about my research or the results of the experiments I carried out on you. She feared that Shinra would try to recruit you from an early age and that my research would be used to breed an army that President Shinra could use against her homeland. I shared her fears on both accounts so I conducted everything in secret, relying on no one. I’m not sure if you remember those times, but your mother and I lived in constant fear that someone would find out what I was doing and the Turks would come to get you in the middle of the night. 

Thankfully, this didn’t happen. It took nearly five years for the treatment to be completed but it was the most successful scientific endeavour of my life. Your health improved remarkably, you started gaining all the weight you had failed to put on in your first years, and your body became strong, flexible, resilient. Your mind didn’t lag behind and you excelled in all of your academic courses. Your mother and I couldn’t be more thrilled, although fear never left our lives. Even if no one could know that your prowess stemmed from genetic experimentation, you could still stand out and catch Shinra’s eye, which is why we always kept you in private schools that were not supervised by the company.

All this being said, I know that it is very likely that you are angry and maybe even disgusted at the course of action your mother and I took. From our conversations after her death, I know you are against experimentation on humans in order to lengthen our lives. I know you firmly believe in the flow of energy that sustains the life of our Planet, and that you found solace in that notion when your mother fell ill and it became clear that nothing would stop or even slow down the arrival of the inevitable end. 

I still remember the argument we had over the experimental treatment I wanted to try on her. It saddened me that we never found the time to try to fix the enormous rift that grew between us because of it. It wounded me deeply to have you so close and to know that, emotionally, you might as well have been a million miles away. 

I am sorry, Vincent. I am sorry that we had to hide the truth from you. I am sorry that I was always so inflexible, but especially at the time of your mother’s illness and passing. You were only twelve years old but could argue your points better than most adults I know, which led me to forget you were a scared child about to lose his mother and that you needed your father’s support, not his criticism or anger. I should not have taken my frustration out on you, and I shouldn’t have buried myself in my research in order to leave my pain behind. I know you may not be able to forgive me but I need you to know how sorry I am. If I had only known how, I would have made as many amends as possible.

Lastly, you should know that I love you. You are my son, and I have always been proud of you. 

With love,

Your father

* * *

 

Tapes and files littered Vincent’s desk. He read most of the files but didn’t go through any of the additional tapes Gast sent him. After reviewing his medical record and underlying the names of the children his father enlisted for his research, Vincent took the letter with him to his room. He read it several times, trying to picture his father sitting at his desk back at their house in Sector Two, doing his best to explain to him things that Vincent wasn’t sure he wanted to know. 

_I know it’s not how you wanted it to be, but you have your explanation and the apology you wished for all those years._

_You’re right. This isn’t how I wanted it to be._

Vincent held the letter in his hands and debated whether to tear it up or not. In the end, he put it back in the envelope and locked it in his night table’s drawer. Then he went around his apartment locking the door and windows and turning all lights off. 

_Vincent? You need to call Gast._

Vincent didn’t reply. He just kept on moving through the apartment listlessly.

 _Vincent, snap out of it. I know what you’re going to do and you_ can’t _. You promised Cloud that you wouldn’t shoulder this on your own._

_I did no such thing._

_You didn’t say the words, but you hugged him. It’s the same thing._

With a scoff, Vincent went to his studio and dropped all the files and tapes back on the cardboard box Cloud had delivered them in. He kicked the box under his desk and then locked his studio. Back in his room, he took a cold shower, brushed his teeth, changed into this pyjamas and slipped under his covers.

 _You have to call Gast,_ Chaos repeated. _Or at least Tseng._

Vincent grunted and reached for his phone. 

**Messages**

**To: R. Shinra, G. Faremis, Turks (Group)**

**Exhausted. DND unless someone is dying or needs to die.**

**— VV**

_You need to at least check up on Elena and Kunsel._

_Tseng or Rufus would’ve called already if they’d taken a turn for the worse again. No news is good news._

He pulled the covers over his head and curled in a foetal position, trying to sleep.

_You’re being ridiculous. What happened to leaving the past where it belongs?_

Vincent curled tighter.

 _I get that you don’t want to see anyone right now, but_ **_we_ ** _need to talk about all the stuff you just read and saw. Don’t think for a second that you’re the only one that’s disgusted by all of it. I was there, too. I was used just as—_

Vincent shut Chaos out and threw the hypothetical key through the hypothetical window. He was asleep within minutes.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, lovely readers and followers! First of all, I want to apologise for the ridiculously long wait—if you’ve read my bio, then you’ll know that I was without my computer for a long time. I’ve had it back for a couple of weeks now, and that’s basically how long it took me to get this chapter ready. It’s still kind of “hot off the press”, so if you find any gross mistakes, don’t be afraid to let me know. I know I found a lot of typos in the previous chapter but I’m not going to go back through them yet. I think I’ll leave all editing until I’m done with the story, which might not be any time soon.
> 
> I had initially hoped to update this once a week, but given the amount of other stuff I have to do, that’s not feasible anymore. I’m thinking that I’ll end up updating once or twice a month. That will allow me time to develop the story as it deserves to be developed and to work on other projects so that I’m not swamped in work all the time. 
> 
> Again, I apologise about the long wait and I thank you for your patience. Also, thank you very much for all your comments and favourites and follows (and kudos over at AO3). I think I have replied to all of you, except for the two guest comments over on FF.net, which I’ll tackle here:
> 
> Guest 1: Thanks and happy (belated) (Vincent) Valentine’s day! As for the seme/uke thing, I’m thinking that in the beginning it’ll be seem!Vincent/uke!Sephiroth, but it doesn’t mean that it’ll be that way ALL the time :P 
> 
> Guest 2: I have! And I will continue to do so! I just had technological issues D:
> 
> Once again, thank you very much for all your support! Hope to see you again soon!


	9. Sun Showers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the wake of the discovery of Fail-Safe, Genesis starts treatment for his cellular degradation and Gast is forced to do more tests on Sephiroth. Vincent has gone missing, leaving Tseng in charge. Nothing out of the ordinary, except Galian has taken over Vincent’s body and is threatening to put an end to Jenova. Now it’s up to Tseng and the Turks to deal with this crisis without Vincent’s leadership.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it’s finally here! The ninth chapter. Took a bit over a month but I think the wait was worth it. Already working on chapter 10 so perhaps we’ll be looking at a double delivery this month, who knows?  
> As a fun fact, this is the longest chapter so far. I feel like not much happened but I also feel that the story moved along significantly—what do you guys think?  
> In case you need clarification, a sun shower is when rain falls from a seemingly clear/cloudless sky.

Friday morning found Genesis sitting on a semi-comfortable armchair in one of the examination rooms at the Science Department while Professor Gast prepared a line to start the treatment that Hojo had seemed almost sure would stop the Soldier First Class’s cellular degradation. Angeal sat to Genesis’s right, holding the other man’s cloak and wearing an unsettled expression that matched his lover’s. 

It wasn’t that they didn’t trust Gast or the drug. The professor had administered the compound to a sample of Genesis’s cells on Wednesday and it showed signs of decelerated degradation and marked recovery without damage to healthy tissue in a matter of hours, so they were fairly confident it would work. There was no way to be sure about the dosage so Gast was playing it safe with a relatively low concentration in order to better monitor the Soldier’s progress. 

The problem was that Genesis and Angeal knew how Hojo had come up with the compound and neither of them was happy about it. Genesis had been about to refuse the treatment and ask Gast to find another way when Angeal made him realise that refusing to use a compound that had proven to be effective would mean that the young boys Hojo and Hollander used on their experiments would have died in vain. However, no matter how many times Genesis reminded himself of the fact, he still felt incredibly guilty to be receiving the treatment. 

As if to reassure him of the need to accept the tainted remedy, the needle hurt more than it should as it punctured Genesis’s vein. A few months ago he wouldn’t even have felt it, but now he could feel the thin skin on the back of his hand rapidly bruising. It scared him how quickly he was deteriorating and he found himself praying to the Goddess that they weren’t too late. Seeking comfort, he reached for Angeal’s hand and squeezed it tight as he felt the cool compound rushing through his bloodstream. Angeal’s reassuring squeeze made some of his anxiety ease away and he tried to keep a positive attitude in spite of everything that had happened that week. He also tried not to think too much about all the things that would come in the near future. 

“This is going to take about an hour,” Gast said as he cleared up his implements. “A nurse will come then and remove the line. After that I want you to go straight to your apartment and rest up for the remainder of the day and come back tomorrow for a quick coagulation test. We’ll leave the complete blood panel for Monday. If you feel weakened or unwell in any way, call me at once. Understood?”

When Genesis merely nodded while staring intently at the line going into his hand, the professor turned to Angeal.

“I’ll make sure he follows all your instructions. Thank you, Professor,” Angeal said.

Genesis mumbled a thanks. With a small smile, Gast nodded and patted his shoulder before leaving. As soon as the door closed behind the professor, Genesis sighed and dropped his head against the armchair’s back. 

“How are you feeling so far?” Angeal asked. 

“Just a bit cold. And, well, rather less repulsed than I thought I would be. I guess it’s because of the bruise that formed as soon as Gast got the needle in.”

Angeal frowned and bent forward to inspect Genesis’s hand. The bruise was mostly covered by the tape Gast used to secure the line but it was still clearly visible. 

“Does it hurt?”

Genesis shook his head. “Not anymore. It did when he pinched me and all the time he was fiddling with the line but it’s fine now.”

“I hope this works, and fast. I hate to see you like this.”

The auburn-haired Soldier smiled and kissed Angeal’s hand softly. “I’m sure it will. You saw the test results. There’s no reason to think it won’t work; it’s just a matter of finding the right dosage.” 

After a moment of light silence, Genesis sighed heavily and shook his head slowly. “I’m more concerned about Sephiroth and Director Valentine, to be honest.”

The black-haired Soldier grunted in response. “Do you know if anyone has talked to the Director since Gast gave him the files?”

“I overheard one of Gast’s aides in the waiting room. It seems like he still hasn’t come out of his apartment.”

“Can’t say that I blame him.”

“And we don’t even know the full story. The incident with…” 

He grimaced while trying to find a way to refer to the hapless children that Hojo and Hollander used in their wretched wager. Neither Hollander nor Hojo recorded a last name for them and when Genesis accessed the orphanages database, he realised it was because the children had no birth certificates of any kind. They had been found at the Northern Continent, near the crater, by a group of Shinra troops on a recon mission and brought back to Midgar when it became clear the children had no family. Unfortunately for them, they ended up at an orphanage that was the Science Department’s pool of test subjects. Whether it was on purpose or not, there was no way to know. 

“With the siblings,” he said eventually, “was ghastly enough. For him to relive the rest of his torment at Hojo’s hands on top of it… I can’t imagine what he must be going through.”

“And then there’s Fail-Safe…”

Genesis sighed again. He’d read that section of Hojo’s journal on Wednesday and he’d been having nightmares about the madman and Hollander for the past two nights. Angeal had barely slept the first night and Sephiroth… 

“I wish Gast hadn’t shown that to Sephiroth,” Genesis said softly. 

“He had to,” Angeal said while squeezing Genesis’s hand as much to comfort him as to derive comfort for himself. 

“I know. I know Seph has a right to know what’s happening to him and what needs to be done to fix it, but… You saw him, Geal. He was so devastated.”

Angeal shifted uncomfortably on his seat. Just remembering the look on Sephiroth’s face when he reached the part of the journal that detailed how Hojo planned to activate the General’s Fail-Safe programming made him feel like breaking something. He had never seen his friend so hurt and forlorn and he hadn’t felt so helpless since Genesis began manifesting Project G’s side effects. The difference this time was that there was nothing Angeal could do to help ease Sephiroth’s suffering, nothing he could say to at least give him hope that things would get better. 

“Do you think his recent interest in Director Valentine is really all about Fail-Safe?” he asked after a while.

 It took him a couple of minutes but Genesis eventually shook his head. “No. Not entirely. I mean, if it were _only_ that he wouldn’t be talking about feelings but about physicality and I think that couldn’t have been further from his mind. He said he wanted Valentine as a friend and I know he meant it. He’s so disconnected from his own emotions that he can’t fake or hide them. If he were lusting after the Director it would be abundantly obvious. If anything, I think all Fail-Safe has done, at least on Sephiroth’s side, is speed up the process.”

“So you think Sephiroth would’ve become interested in the Director with or without Fail-Safe?”

“Yes,” Genesis nodded firmly. “If Hojo hadn’t come up with Fail-Safe, if Valentine hadn’t been dragged into the Jenova Project and Hojo had limited his research on him to Chaos, I think that even then Sephiroth and the Director would have ended up in each other’s path in the long run. I mean, what Valentine did, everything he sacrificed to try to keep Sephiroth safe before he was even born… And then coming back to the company after all of it just to make sure a man he never really met was safe… If that’s not fate, if that’s not _love_ then I don’t know what is. That kind of commitment and devotion generates a pull that’s not easily ignored, not even for someone like Sephiroth.

“So, yes, I am convinced that those two were meant to end up together in one way or another. All Hojo did was muddy the waters in the worst possible fashion.”

Angeal looked into Genesis’s blue eyes and smiled fondly. “You incorrigible romantic,” he said as he leaned close and kissed the other’s lips. 

* * *

 

Two rooms over, Sephiroth sat on an examination table as Gast drew the third and final vial of blood from the silver-haired man’s arm. Aerith stood next to the table and moved to apply an alcohol-soaked cotton wad to the puncture on her brother’s arm to stop the blood. It wasn’t really necessary given Sephiroth’s accelerated healing abilities but it was a small token of comfort she knew he might need. 

Ever since he read the Fail-Safe files and watched the video of the incident at the Nibelheim laboratory, Sephiroth had been apathetic and dejected. That had been two days ago and he showed no signs of lightening up, not even when Gast told him they would start treating Genesis’s cellular degradation. His father’s promises and reassurances that they would find a way to deactivate Fail-Safe on both Sephiroth and Vincent had done nothing to improve his mood, either. Gast thought it was because the General felt pessimistic about the prospect of finding a countermeasure for what was happening to himself and Vincent, particularly because Hojo hadn’t left any notes about how he altered Sephiroth’s biochemistry to emit a mating call to Galian. Truth be told, Gast wasn’t even sure the madman had ever gotten around to tampering with Sephiroth’s system so the tests he would conduct over the weekend were meant to figure that out.

Aerith, being able to sense her brother’s inner turmoil, knew better. She hadn’t talked to him about it, wanting to give him time to process the information, but she knew she would have to do it as soon as they left the Science Department. Sephiroth couldn’t go around mourning something he hadn’t lost yet, and he needed to take the decision to fight Hojo’s gruesome legacy and make his own path. It was clear he would need all the help he could get in that regard, which meant she would also need to speak to Vincent. Not an easy task, considering the man hadn’t left his apartment since early Wednesday morning. 

Gast took a swab off Sephiroth’s mouth and a hair sample, all in silence. He’d given up trying to talk to his son somewhere between the first and second vial of blood, realising Sephiroth still wasn’t ready to talk to him. After collecting the samples and throwing all disposable implements away, he looked at the silver-haired man for a moment before speaking.

“I’ll get started on the tests right away. I’m not sure how long it will take me to have everything done but I’ll let you know as soon as I have anything to report. You can go back to work as soon as you feel ready but Lazard is willing to give you the weekend off. All you have to do is let him know. Genesis is still in exam room 8, if you want to stop by. I instructed him to go straight to his apartment as soon as the drip is done, if you’d rather visit him later.”

Sephiroth nodded and rolled down his sleeve, not bothering to check the crook of his elbow. He avoided his father’s eyes and didn’t say anything.

Gast sighed and shook his head. He leaned forward and kissed Sephiroth’s temple before turning to Aerith and kissing her cheek. 

“I’ll see you kids later, then,” he said and left. 

Aerith turned to Sephiroth and looked at him with determination shining in her green eyes. 

“Let’s go home, brother.”

Sephiroth blinked and looked at her, confused. “Home?”

“Yeah. We need to talk.”

The silver-haired man shook his head and hopped off the table. He took his cloak from a nearby chair and shrugged it on, pulling his hair out of the collar. “We can talk later. I’ll go see Lazard and help him with the mess Palmer and the others left behind. He’s severely understaffed now that Genesis and Angeal are on leave.”

The brunette planted herself in front of her brother, hands on her hips and a stern look on her usually relaxed features. She stared into his catlike eyes without saying a word for nearly two minutes before Sephiroth sighed and dug his phone out of his pants’ pocket. He called Lazard and told him he would take the rest of the day off, possibly the weekend. Lazard told him he understood and that he hoped to see him back at headquarters on Monday. 

After hanging up, Sephiroth looked at his sister with a very small smile. “Happy now?”

Aerith kept on staring at him seriously for a few seconds before breaking into a bright smile and wrapping her arms around his left one. “Getting there,” she giggled. 

* * *

 

Tseng loosened his tie and undid the first two buttons on his shirt. He had been up since four in the morning filing the reports of the interrogations he and the others had conducted after their return from Avalanche’s facilities. He also reviewed part of the information Angeal had brought back from the factory and cross-referenced it to what Heidegger and the others had told them. So far everything checked out but it would take them weeks to deal with all the threats that sprung from the moles’ undermining. 

It was now eleven in the morning and he felt ready to keel over but he still had one more report to review. He wanted to be done by noon to go with Rude to the medical wing to pick Elena up—the doctor told them the previous afternoon that she was ready to be discharged and she couldn’t wait to get home. Neither of them shared Vincent’s aversion to medical facilities but that didn’t mean that they wanted to stay in one for prolonged periods of time, particularly someone as active as Elena. 

After seeing Elena to her apartment and making sure she was as comfortable as possible, he planned to go talk to Vincent. The Director hadn’t left his apartment since Wednesday morning. Cloud had been the last person to see him and he told Tseng that Vincent looked troubled but in relatively good spirits. Gast had told Vincent to call him as soon as the gunman finished reading the files he sent, but all they had gotten was a text message asking not to be disturbed unless it was a life or death situation. That had been Wednesday at around four in the afternoon and they still hadn’t heard from him.

When the message arrived, Tseng didn’t immediately feel worried. He just assumed that Vincent really was just tired after Nibelheim and the factory and decided to rest. The man was resilient but his mind and body had been under a lot of stress lately and it was surely taking its toll now. However, when he didn’t answer his calls on Thursday—about a dozen— nor the calls from everyone else in the team, Gast, and even Rufus, Tseng’s alarm bells began to go off. He had hoped Vincent would at least check in early Friday and when that didn’t happened he decided to clock out early and go make sure nothing terrible had happened.

He read through Reno’s surprisingly legible handwriting once before starting to type up the redhead’s report. His fingers had barely grazed the keyboard when his cellphone—the secure one Cissnei had provided him with—rang. With an exasperated sigh, Tseng looked at the caller ID. His frown eased up when he saw it was Rufus calling.

“Good morning, sir.”

_“Morning, Tseng. How’s everything going?”_

“I’m about to finish the reports on the interrogations. After that, Rude and I will go pick up Elena at the medical wing and then I’ll go check on Vincent.”

_“Oh, good. I was actually calling to ask you to go see him. I’m getting a bit worried about him and… I know this is going to sound callous but there’s no way around it. We need him back as soon as possible.”_

Tseng smiled without much humour. “Not at all, sir. We do need him back. I just hope Genesis’s treatment will work. We need all the help we can get from Soldier and having him on medical leave automatically takes Angeal out of the equation, too.”

_“Sephiroth just told Lazard he’s taking the day off, possibly the entire weekend, too.”_

The Wutain’s thin smile disappeared. He had run into Sephiroth at the elevator bank on Thursday and the General looked like death warmed over. There was no need to ask what the problem was given that he’d been in a meeting with Rufus and Lazard in which Gast explained to them, in very broad strokes, what Vincent and the others had found back in Nibelheim: a very promising treatment to cure Genesis, an explanation to Galian’s behaviour, more tests in store for Sephiroth. As he listened to the scientist try to give a coherent explanation without going into too many details, Tseng couldn’t help but feel they’d taken a step forward only to do an entire Chocodance backwards. Now, hearing that they were three Soldiers First Class down for the weekend, he felt even more apprehensive about the entire matter. 

“Is he all right?”

Rufus sighed heavily before answering. _“I don’t know. Lazard couldn’t say. All he knows is that Sephiroth called after Gast took some samples from him. Security cameras show him leaving the building with Aerith.”_

“She’s probably going to try to talk him out of his despondency.” 

_“I hope so. And I hope she succeeds. I’m down two executives and I just fired the entire Security Department. I know Genesis needs time to recover and that Angeal will only leave his side if there’s an emergency, so I won’t even try to get him back to work until Gast gives Genesis the all clear. Zack is doing an admirable job of picking up their slack but he can’t help us with Avalanche or the summit because Lazard can’t afford to leave the recruits leaderless. Who knows what’s going on in Vincent’s head right now but I’m not really counting on him being back until sometime next week, so I really can’t lose anyone else to Hojo’s posthumous carryings-on.”_

“I understand, sir. I’ll finish up here and go take care of Elena and Vincent. I’ll leave Cissnei and Reno in charge and send Rude back as soon as possible.”

_“Sounds good. Take the rest of the day off is you need it. Please tell Elena I’ll visit her when the workday’s over. And tell Vincent I meant what I said when he came back to the company. Anything he needs—all he has to do is ask.”_

“Will do, sir. I’ll call as soon as there’s something to report.”

_“Good. See you later, then.”_

The call disconnected and Tseng left his phone on the desk. He wondered briefly when it was that Rufus began showing interest in Vincent. It wasn’t that the President didn’t care about the Director or that they weren’t in amicable terms, but Tseng was pretty sure this was the first time Rufus had voiced actual concern for the older man. Usually Rufus only inquired about Vincent when the gunman had appointments with Gast or was forced to work in the field. Other than that, he was content with letting Vincent run the department as he saw fit without feeling the need to micromanage it. 

Tseng was used to the President’s lack of involvement with other executives and, indeed, anyone who could potentially pose a threat to his life or position. The only reason Lazard didn’t quite fall into that category was because Rufus had made sure his brother had a good rank within the company, thus ensuring he wouldn’t want to take Rufus out of the way to take over as President. 

Vincent had never shown particular interest in Rufus but that was easier to explain since the gunman had limited the amount of people he interacted with since his return. He didn’t know how to open up to the world after all the damage done to him over the years and he saw no real reason to try. In this regard, his rule of thumb was simple: if he didn’t absolutely have to interact with someone, he wouldn’t. 

Tseng knew Rufus had visited Elena at the medical wing while Vincent was watching over her. Perhaps they had talked then and reached some sort of common ground, leading to the blond’s current concern. Whatever the case, it was a good thing for one more person to have Vincent’s back so he decided not to dwell on that, focusing instead on the last report.

* * *

 

Elena was already dressed and sitting on a wheelchair when Rude and Tseng entered her room. Her left arm was still in a cast but the bandages on her head and ankle were lighter than before, allowing her to wear both slippers. There was a small sports bag on her lap with her clothes and the antibiotics and pain killers the doctor had prescribed. A small cardboard box on the bed contained several vases filled with bright flowers brought by Rufus, Cloud, Aerith, and the Turks, as well as several boxes of candy courtesy of Tifa. Zack had gotten her a stuffed chocobo and Aerith had also sent her some tea to help with the pain and swelling. 

The blonde Turk smiled at her friends and extended her arms. “Tseng! Rude! I’m glad you came.”

Tseng laughed lightly and hugged her, mindful of all her injuries. “Someone’s eager to leave.”

Elena hugged Rude and nodded. “Yeah. The smell is killing me and I _need_ my own bed.”

Rude picked up the box with gifts while Tseng wheeled Elena out of the room. “The doctor said you need to start moving around as soon as possible, so don’t get too chummy with it.”

“I know. Oh, Tseng, wait. Can we check on Kunsel before leaving?”

The Wutain nodded and took Elena across the hall. The door to Kunsel’s room was open and the young Soldier was sitting up on the bed. His leg was in a cast and his head was still bandaged but the net was gone. His nose was swollen but the cartilage had already set, although he still had a raccoon’s mask in dark purples and pale greens. 

He was eyeing a bowl of fruit as though he were afraid the shockingly bright pieces of food would jump up and attack him. Cloud was sitting to his right, clearly amused. It was him that noticed the Turks first. 

“Did they discharge you already, Elena?”

“Yeah. Just wanted to come say hi before leaving.”

Kunsel looked up and smiled, all misgivings about his hospital food apparently forgotten. “I’m glad to hear that. I’m really jealous.”

Cloud sniggered. “Why? Because she can go home and not be attacked by abnormal fruit?”

Kunsel glared at Cloud. “I’m telling you, _this_ is _not_ normal.” He had skewered a piece of fruit with his fork and was brandishing it accusingly at Cloud. “Look at this cantaloupe! It looks like someone dropped it in a bath of mako!”

The Turks looked at each other and then at the offending piece of cantaloupe. Truth be told, it did look a bit brighter than usual but it seemed highly unlikely that mako was responsible for it. From what Tseng remembered of his last trip to the hospital, sometimes they tossed fruit in a jello-like substance to keep it fresher and looking more appetising. 

“It’s just gelatine,” Cloud said, confirming Tseng’s theory. “If it were mako, everything would be green, not just the cantaloupe.”

“I don’t see you eating it.”

Cloud rolled his eyes and took the fork from Kunsel, eating the fruit resolutely. “There,” he said after he swallowed. “Not mako. Just… really icky gelatine. It’s not going to kill you and you need to eat or the doctor is never going to discharge you.”

“I’ll just bust out as soon as I can move,” Kunsel said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Elena smiled and had Tseng wheel her closer to the bed. She then rummaged on her bag and brought out a box of chocolate covered raisins. “Here,” she said, handing it to Kunsel. “Just have Cloud eat the rest of the fruit and you can eat this.”

“Elena!” Cloud and Tseng exclaimed. 

“What? It’s what I did! Reno ate all my icky hospital food and I munched on the stuff you guys brought me.” 

Tseng’s eyes opened wide and Rude shook his head while Kunsel laughed and Cloud joined him. 

“You’re such children,” Tseng eventually said. “Come, let’s get you home before you give Kunsel even more terrible ideas and Lazard blames _me_ for it.”

“Fiiiiine, _mother_ ,” Elena pouted. She then sobered up and looked at Kunsel again. “Wait. So, you don’t know how much longer you’ll stay here?”

Kunsel shook his head. “The doctor said everything is healing up all right but my broken ribs did a number on my internal organs and there’s still risk of internal bleeding, so he’ll keep me under observation until he’s sure that’s passed. Could be a few more days. I could work from here, though, if you need help analysing any of the information you got from Avalanche.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I think you need to focus on getting better,” Tseng said. 

The kicked puppy look Kunsel gave him reminded him immediately of Zack and he had to wonder if the young Soldier was trying to manipulate him. Probably, given the fact that Zack often resorted to the same tactics when he wanted something he wasn’t likely to get through any other means. 

He supposed he could humour the kid. Besides, given the severe understaffing issues they were going through, it wasn’t entirely unlikely that they would need to turn to him for help in spite of his medical status. 

“If you end up being here more than three or four days and we can’t find the manpower elsewhere, I’ll send Elena over so you can work on the analysis.” Kunsel brightened up considerably and even managed to laugh when Tseng added, “But only if you eat your food and not Elena’s candy. At least breakfast and lunch. You should know better.”

“You got it, sir. Thank you.”

“I’ll force feed him if necessary,” Cloud offered. He got a grape stuck on his hair for his trouble. “Just because I can’t get you back now that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook once the doctor allows you to leave.”

Before they could get caught in what was gearing up to be a brotherly sort of fight, Tseng wheeled Elena around and started leaving.

“I’ll come visit as soon as I can,” Elena said as she waved.

Kunsel managed to thank her while trying to keep Cloud from stealing the fruit to weaponise it. 

“You’re a horrible influence on others, did you know that?” Tseng playfully asked once they were in front of the elevators. 

Elena didn’t have a chance to answer. The alarms went off all around the building and the automated security system informed them that all non-essential personnel should evacuate immediately. Almost at the same time, Tseng’s phones began ringing in unison. Checking the caller IDs, he saw both Rufus and Gast were calling him. He tossed his regular phone to Rude so he’d talk to Gast while he picked up the secure phone and talked to Rufus. 

“Sir? What’s going on?”

_“Vincent managed to sneak into Jenova’s containment room without being seen. He’s… It’s not_ him _. I mean, it’s his body but it’s obvious that he’s not in control and Gast is sure Chaos isn’t, either.”_

“Galian,” Tseng breathed. 

_“Yes. Gast is in near hysterics—he wanted to send a bunch of Seconds in. I managed to talk him out of that idea and told him you guys would handle it. Reno’s with him now picking up the tranquillisers for Galian. He and Cissnei will meet you outside the containment room.”_

“Thank you, sir. I’ll just leave Elena with Kunsel and bring Cloud with me, just in case.”

_“All right. Gast insisted on being there and I’m afraid he might get in the way so call me if you need anything.”_

“Roger.”

Tseng hung up and wheeled Elena to Kunsel’s room while Rude stayed on the line with Gast.

“Tseng? What about Galian?”

“It seems like Galian somehow got control of Vincent’s body and now they’re in Jenova’s containment room. We need to get there quickly and find a way to stop Galian before he does something stupid.”

Cloud had just come out of Kunsel’s room, locking the door behind him when Tseng arrived.

“Tseng! What’s going on?”

“I’ll explain on the way there. Elena’s staying with Kunsel in the meantime.”

Cloud nodded and let Elena inside. “She’ll fill you in,” was all he told Kunsel as he rushed out and followed Tseng to the elevators. 

 

* * *

 

 

“So. What did you want to talk about?”

Sephiroth was sitting on the couch with a glass of lemonade with Aerith curled up next to him, drinking tea. When he finally spoke after fifteen minutes of more or less companionable silence, she sat up with her legs crossed and faced him with a serious expression. It nearly matched her overall demeanour during the conversation in which Gast explained to them why Sephiroth couldn’t be near Vincent and it worried the General. 

It also answered his question.

“This is about Vincent, isn’t it?”

Aerith nodded. “You can’t let what Hojo did affect you like this, brother.”

Sephiroth sighed and rolled his shoulders. “It’s not a matter of _letting_ it, Aerith. It’s…”

He sighed again and rubbed his face with one hand. He’d been reflecting on it since Wednesday and he still didn’t know how to voice what he was feeling and thinking. Luckily for him, Aerith had a pretty good idea of just what kind of thoughts had been plaguing him. 

“We still don’t know if Hojo did anything for you to feel attracted to Vincent.”

“What does it matter if he did? The fact remains that he altered Galian so _he_ would find _me_. Even if Father manages to revert that programming and gives Vincent every reassurance available on the Planet that Galian and Chaos are no longer a threat to me, he still won’t want anything to do with me. He’ll still feel unworthy or inadequate or a failure or whatever else he imagines himself to be because of what happened over thirty years ago. How am I supposed to convince someone like him that I don’t care about any of that? What can I say, what can I _do_ to show him that—?”

A dull throbbing on the back of his head stopped him mid-sentence. He brought his hand up to put pressure on the spot to try to fight back the pain and he noticed Jenova was whispering to him. 

“Seph? Brother, are you all right?”

“She’s… Whispering. I don’t know what she wants, I can’t understand.”

Aerith knelt in front of him on the floor and held his face in her hands, pressing her forehead gently against his. She closed her eyes and concentrated, trying to link with Jenova to figure out what the problem was. It took her a few minutes, but eventually she was able to find what she needed. She gently broke the link so she wouldn’t hurt Sephiroth and took his hands in hers.

“Are you all right?”

He nodded slowly. “It’s not going away but it’s not getting worse, either. What’s the matter with her now?”

She debated whether or not to tell him but decided he had a right to know. 

“Galian took over Vincent’s body and made it to Jenova’s containment room. She wants you to go and save her.”

Sephiroth’s eyes widened and he made to stand up but Aerith stopped him. “What—?”

“You can’t go, Sephiroth. You’d never make it in time to help and you know being close to Vincent would only make matters worse.”

“But—Wait. If Galian is in control and he’s in the room… Why is she so calm about it?”

“How do you mean?”

“Last week at the lab when she went into full hysterics after I arrived she was responding to Galian. She only calmed down, in a way, when Chaos regained control.” He took a moment to think before adding, “It was the opposite of the videos Father showed me of the tests he ran last week and Hojo’s journals. Even on the video with the three brothers she only reacted violently to Chaos. She spurred the boys to attack Galian but I don’t think she really wanted them to face Chaos. Why is she reacting differently?”

Aerith searched his vivid green eyes with hers and saw the same fierce determination in them that had somehow disappeared two days ago. She hadn’t picked up on Jenova’s seemingly contradicting behaviour, and neither had their father. It had taken Sephiroth to bring up one more piece of the puzzle and whether it was an important piece or not, it was giving him the chance to do what he was best at: finding a solution to a seemingly impossible problem. She hoped it would help him realise that he had a right to fight for what he wanted, that he didn’t have to just throw the towel and let Hojo call the shots from his well-deserved grave. 

“I have no idea,” she said after a moment. “But you should definitely bring it up with dad as soon as you have a chance.”

As if on cue, the house phone rang and Aerith picked it up.

“Hello?”

_“Aerith! Is Sephiroth there with you?”_

She turned to her brother and nodded. “Yes, he’s here with me, dad. We know about Galian and Jenova. Is everything okay?”

_“I don’t know. The Turks are on their way to try to take care of the situation. How is Sephiroth doing?”_

“He’s fine. He can hear her but can’t make out the words. I had to link with her to find out what was going on.”

_“What was she saying?”_

“She wanted him to go and save her. He nearly bolted out the door but I managed to stop him.”

_“Good. There’s no knowing what would happen if he came across Galian now. Listen, dear, just stay put, both of you. Call me if Jenova becomes aggressive with him or if anything unusual happens, all right?”_

“Yes, dad. Be careful. We love you.”

_“I love you, too.”_

Aerith hung up and sat next to Sephiroth, covering his hand with hers. “Dad said the Turks are going to take care of it and he wants us to call if anything out of the ordinary happens.”

Sephiroth nodded but remained silent for a few minutes. Eventually he nodded decisively and turned to look at his sister.

“Will you go through Hojo’s journals with me? Maybe we can find something to help Father and Vincent, something he might have missed.”

Aerith smiled and nodded. “Of course.”

* * *

Tseng, Cissnei, Reno, and Rude were standing outside Jenova’s containment room along with Gast and Cloud. Rude and Cissnei had tranquilliser guns loaded with the darts Gast had prepared for Galian and were trying to figure out where the best vantage points were inside the room on Tseng’s tablet. Reno had his electromagnetic rod set to the second highest setting and would stay near the door in case Galian made a run for it. Cloud was to make sure Gast didn’t intervene while doubling as their last line of defence in case Galian got past Reno. 

It had been decided that Tseng would try to reason with Galian to get him to stand down without having to resort to the tranquillisers, Reno’s mag-rod, nor Cloud’s Tsurugi. Gast wanted to go in but Tseng managed to convince him of just how bad an idea that was given that Galian surely shared Vincent’s dislike of scientists. 

“You can’t take any chances,” Gast was saying. “If you see him going for the tank you’ll have to shoot him.”

“We understand that. How many darts can Vincent’s body take before it becomes dangerous?”

“Not more than three, and even that seems a bit extreme.”

“Two tops, then?” Rude asked. 

Gast nodded. 

 “I can take the catwalk and perch on these tubes over here as long as they’re not hot,” Cissnei said. 

“They’re not,” Gast said. “Just stay away from the junctions in case there are any leaks.”

“I’ll stay on ground level behind the tank, but we’ll have to come in from the loading bay,” Rude said. 

“Give us two minutes to get into position,” Cissnei said. 

“Go, both of you.” Tseng said. As Cissnei and Rude ran down the hallway, Tseng turned to the tablet to check the schematics. “I’ll come in first, Reno. Wait until I give you the signal to come inside. I’ll try to angle myself to keep him from getting a visual on you to try to keep him focused on me. Are you sure you’ll be okay if he charges at you?”

“It’ll be fine as long as he doesn’t transform, yo. I can vault over him, slide under him, jump to either side. I’ll know what needs to be done when and if it comes to that.”

“Good. Cloud, your priority is keeping Galian from making it to the common area. Try to stall him until Cissnei or Rude arrive with the tranquillisers.”

“Roger.”

Tseng nodded and passed his tablet to Gast. He checked his gun and his throwing knives.

“Are you sure you don’t want a tranq-gun?” Gast asked. 

“Yes. I don’t want him to see me as a threat from the get-go and those things are bulky. My gun and knives are much more easy to conceal.”

“I don’t understand why you think you can reason with him.”

“Because Vincent and Chaos are still somewhere in there and they must have some degree of control over the situation if Galian hasn’t transformed. He didn’t attack anyone on the way over and he hasn’t even threatened Jenova yet. He’s showing restraint, which means some sort of logic must be at work here. _That_ means I can get through to him, or at least try to.”

He brought his hand to the comm unit on his ear and nodded. “Rude and Cissnei are in position. Wait for my signal, Reno.”

The redhead nodded and leaned against the wall while Tseng opened the door to the containment room.

Jenova’s containment room wasn’t particularly big but had the advantage of a large, vaulted ceiling that allowed all the tubes and cables needed to keep Jenova in suspended animation to be kept out of the way. The tank itself took up about a third of the room and was located in the centre of it. There was a small panel in front of the tank and a control console off to the side. The left wall was lined with refrigerators and freezers with several samples taken by Hojo, Hollander, and Gast himself. 

After taking a few steps into the room, Tseng saw Galian sitting cross-legged in front of the tank. He was wearing Vincent’s pyjamas and was barefoot. His hands rested on his knees and he stared straight at Jenova. When he got closer, Tseng realised he wasn’t blinking. He was about to speak up when a rumbling voice, so low Tseng couldn’t believe it came from Vincent’s body, stopped him on his tracks. 

“What brings you here, Tseng of the Turks, the Host’s foster son and dearest comrade?”

A chill run down the Wutain’s back, he wasn’t quite sure why. The titles themselves didn’t trouble him, nor did the fact that he was certain the others could hear everything through the comm units. Perhaps it was the fact that Galian seemed to be using the titles not to mock him but to show his respect.

“There is no need for stealth. I know your two brothers and one of your sisters are here. Reno is just outside this room, Cissnei is elegantly balanced on the tubes near the catwalk, and Rude has melded with the shadows behind the tank. They have tranquillisers and a modified taser. You carry your gun and knives. 

“Cloud Strife, the man that has adopted the Host as his surrogate father, is also outside; he carries a modified broadsword. Lastly, Professor Gast Faremis, the man torn between helping the Host and using him is also in the hallway. He is unarmed. Am I missing anything?”

_“Shit,”_ Reno’s voice came through the comm. 

_“Tseng, what are we going to do?”_ asked Cissnei. 

_“Even if he knows we’re here—”_

“You could still take me down, Rude, yes. However, given the Host’s current condition I would advise against it.”

Tseng walked forward until he was roughly two feet away from Galian. From that distance, he realised Vincent’s face looked terribly haggard. He thought he saw Galian’s orange eyes flicker gold once but the eerie glow from the tank could be playing tricks on him. 

“Current condition? What do you mean?” 

“The protomateria is acting up. That is the only reason I was able to step forward. It is not damaged enough that I can overpower Chaos and take over completely but, for the time being, the Host’s body is mine to command.”

“What are you planning to do, then?”

Galian finally blinked, slowly. As his eyes opened again, Tseng could see his expression harden and the corners of his mouth twist up in a snarl. 

“I should destroy the Planet Bane, shred it to pieces and burn it. Spread its ashes to the seven winds and pray to the Goddess that all its accursed offspring withers and dies with it.”

He closed his eyes again, leaving them closed for a long time. 

“Why don’t you?” Tseng asked. 

Without opening his eyes, Galian replied. “Chaos has made a case for the Planet Bane’s offspring. One of them in particular.”

“Sephiroth?” Tseng ventured.

Vincent’s skin rippled and Galian shuddered violently. His hands turned violet and his nails turned into darkened talons. His fingers dug into his knees, nearly tearing into the fabric. The change lasted a few seconds, after which Galian released a strained sighed and relaxed again. 

In its tank, Jenova’s eye glowed a dangerous shade of red but nothing else happened.

Tseng didn’t flinch but he heard Cissnei take in a sharp breath and someone cocked their gun; he couldn’t be sure if it was Cissnei or Rude. 

“Yes,” Galian answered after he regained control of himself. “The son of the woman who broke the Host’s heart and the man who burdened him with Chaos and myself. The son that madman wanted me to maul after humiliating him and the Host. The man the Host would give his life to protect and defend.” His eyes opened then, narrowed in suspicion and mistrust. “I do not understand why.”

That was something Tseng could help with.

“In general terms, Vincent regards all life as sacred. He values it and has always strived to protect it. In Sephiroth’s case…” He paused, gauging Galian’s reaction. When he only shivered minutely, he went on. “He didn’t want him to suffer at his parents’ hands and did his best to protect him. Given that he was unable to stop them, he feels that he failed him and has tried to make amends ever since. He feels it is his duty and that there is honour in it, that Sephiroth is worth… well, everything and anything.”

“Why this man? All things considered, his affection is merely circumstantial. If his father had not passed along a genetic mutation that rendered the Host’s body weak and feeble he never would have experimented on him to make him stronger and save his life. He never would have caught the madman’s eye, causing him to be dragged into his insane ploys. He never would have met the unfortunate child and I would be free to carry out my duty as Planet Protector.”

To their credit, none of the Turks reacted visibly to the news about Vincent’s father and the experimentation he went through at his hands. They silently filed that information away for a later time and Tseng continued with his part of the mission. 

“I’m not sure that Vincent believes in coincidences. If you ask him I’m sure he’ll tell you that all those things happened as they did for a reason.”

“What do you believe, Tseng of the Turks?”

“I believe it’s irrelevant whether those events were fate or coincidence. All that matters is that Vincent is here now and his presence alone has saved our lives, made them significantly better. That is why I—all of us—would like to see him happy.”

“Do you believe he will be happy near this man? More importantly, do you think he can make the Host happy?”

“I’m not sure. All I know is that he will forever regret not having a chance to find out.”

Galian tilted his head in Tseng’s direction but kept his eyes fixed on the tank before him. 

“I am afraid I cannot fight back the natural impulse to chase after… the General. What the madman did to me, whatever chemicals he used, they are too strong to ignore.”

The door opened and Reno rushed in. He stopped next to Tseng, knowing Galian wouldn’t attack him. 

“What if you received an order to stand down and leave Sephiroth alone?”

“An order?” Tseng asked, looking at Reno in confusion. “From who?”

“A Cetra,” Reno said, still looking at Galian. 

Galian finally tore his eyes from the tank and looked into Reno’s aquamarine eyes. 

“You mean Ifalna Gainsborough.”

Reno nodded firmly. “According to what Gast found in that book, your kind refrained from attacking Jenova when it first arrived because the Cetra told you to leave it alone. You must have gone against your natural instincts then, right? All because of an order, yo.”

“Like I said, what has been done to me is far stronger than natural instincts.”

“I know, but it might help you fight it until Gast can come up with a solution, yo. It would lower the stress on the protomateria and on Vincent’s body. It would allow him to better cope with all of this. We’ll pick up whatever slack we can to help, too.”

“Because the Host saved your lives, yes?”

“Because he is our family,” Rude said.

“Because we love him,” Cissnei said. She’d climbed down the tubes and now stood next to Tseng with Rude to her right. 

Galian looked at them one by one, taking in their determined stance and the seriousness of their expressions. He returned his gaze to the tank for a moment before nodding minutely.

“If you can bring her here I am willing to try. While I am unsure that a direct command from a Cetra can nullify whatever is in my blood, I do not see the harm in trying.”

_“I’ll get her,”_ Cloud said through the comm unit. 

“Thank you, Cloud,” Tseng said.

While they waited for Cloud to return with Ifalna, Tseng decided to take the opportunity to get a bit more insight into Galian.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but have you always been able to communicate like this?”

Galian’s lips curled into a grin that was far more feral than any of them had seen before, lending him a terrifying appearance. 

“No. It took me a very long time to be able to articulate your language. I have borrowed a lot from Chaos in this regard. However, I had not had the chance to truly practice until now. The Host deemed me too wild to attempt any sort of communication and Chaos was able to interact with me telepathically so speech was not necessary.”

“Will you try to do it more from now on?” Cissnei asked. 

“That is up to the Host.”

“Why do you call him that? Why not Vincent or Valentine?”

The grin disappeared, replaced instead by an almost bashful expression.

“My kind is heavily bound by propriety and respect. I am an invader in his body and yet he has protected me from the scientists and even myself. I am eternally in his debt for this and cannot presume to address him by his name until he has granted me permission to do so.”

“But you can call us by our names because…?”

“We stand on more or less the same ground. You would do anything for him, as would I. For more or less the same reasons, too.” 

“What were you planning to do?” Rude asked. “When you came here, I mean.”

As if the question had reminded him of Jenova’s presence in the room, Galian returned his gaze to it. 

“I wanted to end its life.”

“Why now, yo?” Reno asked. 

“It was a matter of opportunity. I am not strong enough to best Chaos and it has been too long since I have been able to take over the Host’s body without his consent. After he read the files Professor Faremis gave him, the Host was under so much stress that the protomateria gave enough to allow me to push past Chaos’s barriers.”

“When are you letting go, then?”

“After I speak to Ifalna Gainsborough.”

“Does that mean you’re giving up on destroying Jenova?” Tseng asked.

Galian smiled again, still an unnerving sight but one the Turks were getting used to. 

“You are full of questions, Turks.” He cracked his neck and straightened his back. “For the time being, yes. The offspring is not to blame for the transgressions of Shinra’s scientists. As for the scion the Host is interested in…” He shook his head slowly, almost sadly. “I cannot make any promises other than this: I will do my best to fight back the impulses that have so greatly inconvenienced the Host.”

“Is he okay?” Cissnei asked. “Right now, I mean. Can he hear us, or…?”

“Chaos has been listening all this time. He cannot risk taking action here because it would put the Planet Bane on edge and it could have disastrous results.

“The Host… He retreated into himself after reviewing the files provided to him. Chaos could not get through to him, try as he might. In fact, that is what distracted him enough for me to take advantage of the situation. I cannot presume to know what lies in his heart, but I do know he is troubled. He will need all the support you can provide him.”

Tseng was about to reply when Cloud’s voice over the comm unit interrupted him.

_“Tseng. I’m with Ifalna at Gast’s office. I explained the situation to her and she agreed to talk to Galian but she doesn’t think it’s a good idea for her to go into the containment room. She wants to know if it would be possible to meet somewhere else.”_

“I see.” He thought hard for a moment, dismissing ideas almost as soon as he came up with them. After a moment, he said, “Vincent’s apartment. We’ll meet you there.”

_“Roger.”_

“Mrs. Gainsborough has agreed to meet with you but she won’t come here.”

Galian nodded slowly. “Understandable. The Planet Bane would probably use the opportunity to try to attack her.”

“I told Cloud to take her to Vincent’s apartment. I think it’s the only safe place that he would be comfortable with.”

“I agree. Do you want to escort me there or should I just transport like I did to get here?”

“That explains how you got past all security cameras, yo,” Reno said with a smirk. 

“We all have our tricks,” Galian said with a hint of something that resembled pride.

“I think that would be best. Can you take someone with you?” When Galian nodded, Tseng turned to the others. “Reno, would you mind going with Galian? I’ll need to talk to Rufus, someone has to pick up Elena and I don’t think Gast will stay behind if his wife is involved.”

“Are you kidding, yo? I’ve always wanted to try it.”

“Reno…” Admonished the other three in unison.

“Vincent would’ve laughed and you know it.”

Galian _did_ laugh, a rumbling, throaty chuckle that sent chills up the Turks’ backs—the good kind of chills. He stood up and gave Jenova a long, withering look before turning to Reno and offering his hand. He somehow managed to tone down the eeriness of his grin this time. 

“Come, then, Reno of the Turks, the Host’s foster son and most adventurous companion. I promise not to bite.”

Reno grinned and took Galian’s hand, allowing him to pull him closer and wrap an arm around his waist. 

“What if I wanted you to bite, yo?”

“Reno!”

Galian laughed and, without answering, enveloped Reno and himself in a violet mist and disappeared. 

The remaining Turks looked at each other, utterly confused. 

“Did… Did Reno _flirt_ with Galian?” Rude asked.

“Only after Galian flirted with him first,” Cissnei answered. 

Tseng sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Thank Leviathan it’s Friday.”

* * *

The knock on his door startled him and Rufus ended up botching his signature on the executive order to pass control of Midgar’s Police Department to Lazard on a temporary basis. Glaring at the piece of paper before him, he moodily told whoever had knocked to come inside. His scowl somewhat diminished when he saw it was Tseng coming in, looking exhausted. 

“Good Goddess, Tseng, what’s the matter?”

After locking the door, Tseng walked up to Rufus’s desk, took off his jacket, flung it on the back of a chair and all but collapsed on the other. He undid his tie and took it off, tossing it next to his jacket before undoing the cuffs of his shirt. He sighed deeply before answering. 

“I went to bed at one and I’ve been up since four in the morning. I just had a long talk with _Galian_ —whom I had been led to believe didn’t even _reason_ , let alone _talked_ —, at the end of which he flirted with Reno and the loudmouth flirted back. I’m supposed to be at Vincent’s apartment to see if Ifalna can order Galian not to sexually harass Sephiroth while making sure Gast doesn’t try to lock Vincent up in the Science Department indefinitely but I thought I’d drop by to let you know where we stand and to regroup before I have a nervous breakdown.”

Rufus looked at his bodyguard with a mixed look of confusion, curiosity, and just a bit of pity. He stood up and went to his cabinet, retrieving a bottle of sake and two small cups. He poured them both a drink, sitting next to Tseng. He waited for the Wutain to drink his sake and refilled his cup.

“Feeling better?” When Tseng nodded, he mimicked the action. “Good. Now, take another deep breath and explain everything more calmly, will you?”

Tseng did. He told Rufus what Galian had said about wanting to kill Jenova but refraining from it because of Chaos’s intervention. He also told him about Reno’s idea to have Ifalna give Galian an order to ignore Hojo’s programming. He had to explain that in more detail given that Gast had only given Rufus a rather simplified explanation. He left out Galian’s comments about Vincent’s father because he wasn’t sure that Vincent wanted anyone to know about that, maybe not even the Turks. 

Gast hadn’t actually said anything about keeping Vincent in the Science Department but Tseng had seen the look in the man’s eyes when they arrived to the containment room and when Tseng told him Galian had gone to Vincent’s room to talk to Ifalna. Years of observing people, particularly Shinra employees, told the Wutain that Gast had lost all confidence that Vincent could keep things under control on his own and wouldn’t hesitate to step in and try to do things his way. If Vincent was in no shape to stand up for himself then it would fall upon the Turks to make sure he didn’t end up locked up in a lab, and he told Rufus as much. 

“I see what you mean,” the President said. “I’ll talk to Gast about this. I’m afraid that if he pushes too hard he’ll back Vincent against a wall and he’ll want to resign. It was Veld who, in the end, convinced him to return and work for the company by bringing up the possibility of Heidegger taking over your division. Now that Heidegger is no longer a threat all that’s keeping him here is loyalty to you, guys. But given everything else that’s going on, I have to wonder if that’d be enough to keep him here if Gast starts threatening him.”

Tseng sighed sadly. The possibility of Vincent wanting to resign had occurred to him on the way over to Rufus’s office and the thought made him sick.Heidegger or no Heidegger, Tseng wanted Vincent to stay. He was a good leader, better even than Veld had been, and he made their job easier to bear. Their relationship outside of working hours was also important to him and the rest of the Turks and he had no idea if they could maintain that with Vincent no longer working for Shinra. Being realistic, probably not. It was unlikely that Vincent would want to stay in Midgar if his employment with Shinra came to an end. 

“Please do, sir. I… I don’t think we can afford to lose Vincent. On a personal level I certainly don’t want to see him go, and I’m sure the others feel the same.”

Rufus nodded. He was aware of the Turks’ devotion to one another and of their off-the-clock activities. Reno had suggested once or twice that he join them but he wasn’t sure Vincent would welcome him. 

“If you’re feeling more composed then I suggest you get going to Vincent’s. The sooner we know if Ifalna can help out the better. Also, you look like you need to sleep the rest of the day off. Tell the others they can take the rest of today and tomorrow off, but I’m afraid you’ll have to be back at the office on Sunday.”

Tseng nodded and started straightening his clothes. He drained his second cup of sake and stretched; lastly, he arranged his hair. 

“Thank you… Rufus.”

The blond smiled and stood up, kissing Tseng’s lips briefly. “Anything for my Turks.”

* * *

By the time Tseng made it to Vincent’s apartment, Galian, the Turks, Ifalna, and Gast were already there; Cloud had returned to the medical wing to check on Kunsel before meeting Zack for drills with the Thirds. 

Galian was sitting on his knees in the middle of the living room with his hands on his thighs, eyes closed but looking alert. Ifalna stood next to him, one hand on his shoulder, the other on his head; her eyes were closed, too, and she seemed to be saying something under her breath.

Gast and the Turks were sitting on the couch, which had been pulled away from Galian and Ifalna. The professor was clearly unhappy about something while the Turks looked at the scene before them with looks ranging from curious to worried. Cissnei and Elena were holding hands while Rude and Reno flanked them, their arms wrapped around them. 

Trying not to disturb whatever was going on, Tseng slowly made his way to the couch and sat between Gast and Rude. He wasn’t going to ask anything until Ifalna and Galian were done but Gast turned to him and explained, whispering. 

“Galian acknowledged Ifalna as his superior. He’s pledged himself to her so her commands will be absolute. Right now she’s trying to imprint the order into his subconscious so it’ll be harder for Hojo’s programming to overrule her. It’s taking a while because Galian hasn’t transformed.”

“Why hasn’t he?”

Gast shook his head. “Chaos is still trying to get Vincent to snap out of it and take over. If he allows Galian to transform, Vincent will just slip further into his mind.”

Tseng said nothing, but his grim expression was enough.

Another fifteen or twenty minutes passed in silence. Suddenly, Galian shivered and Ifalna stopped whatever prayer or incantation she had been reciting. She opened her eyes and patted Galian’s shoulder before sitting on a nearby armchair. 

“That’s the best I can do,” she said. 

Galian opened his eyes slowly, as if he were waking from a dream. He looked at his hands as if expecting to see an outward sign of whatever Ifalna had just done. 

“Is everything all right?” Tseng asked, approaching Galian.

“I do not know. I do not feel different.”

“How do we know it worked, yo?”

“We could call Sephiroth,” Rude offered. 

Tseng eyed Galian carefully, expecting something like the halted change from the containment room. When nothing happened, he felt a spark of hope that he was unable to quell. 

“You didn’t react to his name.”

Galian looked at him, head slightly cocked to the left. “No, I did not. We should try Rude’s suggestion, all the same.”

“It’s a good idea. I want to check on him, anyway,” Gast said.

He dialled Sephiroth’s number and set his phone to speaker. It rang twice before Sephiroth picked up.

_“Father? Is everything all right?”_

Gast answered, although his and everybody’s eyes were fixed on Galian who, at least so far, had not reacted to Sephiroth’s voice.

“Yes, son. It’s a long story and I’ll explain everything to you when your mother and I get home. Right now, though, how are you feeling? Did you hear Jenova again or anything of the sort?”

_“Briefly, not too long after you called. Just a slightly desperate… something. But it faded quickly and I’ve felt all right since.”_

Gast sighed in relief. “I see. That’s good.”

_“When are you and Mother coming home? Aerith and I have something we’d like to run by you.”_

“What about?”

_“About what Hojo might or might not have done to me in regards to Fail-Safe.”_

“Did you find something?” Ifalna asked, moving close to Gast.

_“Possibly.”_ There was a slight pause, then, _“Wait. Why do you have me on speaker?”_

“We are testing something but we’ll discuss it when we get home. I’ll get started on processing the samples I took this morning and I’ll try to clock out early.”

_“All right.”_ The strain in Sephiroth’s voice was apparent but he did not argue the issue. _“We’ll wait for you, then.”_

They said goodbye and Gast disconnected the call. 

No one said anything for a moment, the silence that filled the room heavy with anticipation and a certain degree of hope. Everyone’s eyes remained on Galian. His head was tilted up and to the right, his eyes closed in concentration. After a moment that was close to becoming uncomfortable, he opened his orange eyes with a small nod. 

“I felt a stirring inside me, but I do not think it was the madman’s programming. The…” He paused as if steeling himself before continuing. “Sephiroth’s voice… it did not affect me.”

The Turks—minus Tseng—heaved a collective sigh of relief. Even Ifalna looked optimistic, but Gast still seemed skeptical. Tseng picked up on this and braced himself for an argument. 

“What was the stirring, then?” Gast asked.

Galian looked at him with barely guarded contempt; apparently, Tseng’s earlier assessment about Galian’s dislike for scientists had been correct.

“I believe it was the Host. I—”

_It was_ , Chaos voice rumbled inside Galian’s head. He sounded tired and slightly on edge. _I have no idea if he was responding solely to Sephiroth or if my nagging finally got through to him, but he’s awake now._

Galian’s eyes flickered gold as he listened to Chaos, a change almost everyone in the room was aware of. 

“What’s Chaos saying, yo?” 

“He confirmed it was the Host I felt. He seems to be awake now.”

Tseng _did_ sigh in relief this time. One less thing to worry was always good. 

Turning to Ifalna, he bowed at the waist. “Thank you very much, Mrs. Gainsborough.”

“It was my pleasure. Now, Galian, if you feel something’s not right, do you think you’ll be able to let Vincent or Chaos know? That way they can call me and I can try to figure out a solution along with all of you.”

_If you promise to behave, I can leave a three-way communication channel open. Vincent would like that, I think._

Galian nodded as much for Ifalna as for Chaos. “It seems like I will be able to keep in direct communication with them. I will alert them if I feel that the programming is overruling your orders and I cannot fight it on my own.”

“Good. I think we will leave you alone now. You all need to rest, I believe.”

Tseng looked at Gast and saw that the professor wanted to protest. However, one stern yet sweet look from his wife effectively kept him silent. Tseng would’ve laughed if it hadn’t been horribly out of place and character for a man in his position. 

“Tell Vincent I want to talk to him as soon as possible. Unlike last time I told him so and he ignored me.”

“I’ll make sure he’s at your office Monday morning,” Cissnei said. She saw the tension on Tseng’s shoulders and how tight his jaw was set and decided to step in. It wouldn’t do to have them fighting in the middle of Vincent’s apartment when Galian was in control of their boss’s body. 

“All right. Have a nice day, everyone.”

The Turks mumbled their thanks and goodbyes as Tseng escorted Gast and Ifalna to the door. He locked up and returned to the living room to find Reno and Rude pushing furniture back into its usual place. Galian stood off to the side, lost in conversation with Chaos judging by the flickering of his eyes. He waited until Galian’s eyes settled back to orange before standing in front of him. 

“What is it?”

“I was just listening to Chaos set some ground rules, as he called them. He also did a quick assessment of the protomateria—he believes it has stabilised enough that it will be safe for him and the Host to take control of the Host’s body. He is unsure if the Host will want to take over, though. He will want to talk to you as soon as I step back.”

“All right. Are you stepping back now?”

“Yes. I just wanted to thank you all for taking control of the situation. I understand that the professor wanted to do things differently.”

“There’s no need to thank us, yo.”

“We’ve got Vincent’s back,” Elena said.

“That includes Chaos and you,” Rude added.

“As long as you have our backs, too, all’s well,” Cissnei said.

Galian smiled. Chaos must have helped out because the eeriness was entirely gone from the gesture, replaced instead by a familiar sort of warmth.

“For the rest of my life, Turks. Also, if you see Cloud, thank him, as well. Now, if you will excuse me, it is time I let Chaos take over.”

Without allowing anyone enough time to reply, Galian closed his eyes. When they opened again, cloudy orange had been replaced by bright gold. Chaos shook his head slowly, holding a hand to his forehead. On instinct, Tseng moved forward and wrapped an arm around Chaos’s waist to provide support. 

“Chaos? Is everything all right?”

“Yes, it’s just… Galian isn’t used to this kind of switch and he just… withdrew entirely. I had to rush forward. Not fun.”

Tseng guided Chaos to the armchair before perching on the couch’s armrest. The other four were already sitting on it in the same positions as before. 

“Do you need anything? Water, something to eat?” Cissnei offered. 

“I will need both those things plus some actual rest but there are things you should know first. And I’m afraid I will have to be the one to tell you. Vincent is being difficult.”

“How is he?” Elena asked. “The guys said Galian told them you couldn’t get through to him after he read the files they brought back from Nibelheim.”

“That is what I need to talk to you about. As for how he is… He’s a bit better now that you found a way to control Galian’s impulses—by the way, nice catch, Vim.” 

“Yo,” Reno said with a lazy, two-finger salute. 

“He’s having all sorts of irrational thoughts, though, and—”

Chaos’s golden eyes flickered crimson and he frowned. Like with Galian, the flickering went back and forth for a while until Chaos sighed heavily.

“Wouldn’t you know it? Hurt his sensibilities a little and he decides he _does_ want to be the one to tell the tale, after all. So I guess I’ll be leaving the talking up to him—I’ll be around, though. See you later, kids.”

Once again, Chaos retreated without giving anyone a chance to reply. 

When Vincent opened his crimson eyes and looked at the Turks sitting on the couch his eyes welled up.

“I’m sorry,” he said, the words barely audible as he tried not to sob. 

Elena stood up, favouring her still healing ankle, and walked up to Vincent. She sat on his lap and wrapped her arms around him, nuzzling his neck. Vincent held her close, mindful of her injuries, and sobbed against her hair. The rest soon joined them, hugging Vincent’s legs and taking his hands in theirs, kissing and nuzzling where they could, drying his tears with hands and ties. No one said anything, allowing Vincent to vent whatever was eating away at him. 

Long minutes passed, the silence of the apartment broken only by Vincent’s sobs and the calming noises from the Turks. Eventually, Vincent sighed shakily and dried his face with the handkerchief Rude offered him. He kissed each Turks’ lips in turn, briefly but lovingly before motioning for them to stop crowding him so he could talk. Elena was the only one to stay in place while Vincent looked at her healing injuries. Her cast was pale yellow and had been scribbled by the Turks, Cloud, Zack, Kunsel, Aerith, and some of the medical staff. It made Vincent smile. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked her.

“I’m all right. The cast’s bothersome, though.”

“How long is it staying on?”

“A couple of weeks, I think. I hope it’ll be gone before the summit. A Turk in a cast won’t cause a very good impression.”

Vincent wanted to say something along the lines of ‘impressions be damned’ but Elena was right. It didn’t exactly inspire confidence to have someone from the security detail partially limited by a cast. 

“You’ll just have to behave to make sure your arm heals quickly, then.”

Tseng snorted. “Impossible. She already cheated to get out of the med wing faster.”

Elena gasped and turned to him, an angry pout on her face. “Tattle-tale!”

Arching an eyebrow, Vincent asked, “What did you do, Bushy-tail?”

The blonde blushed and shrunk in Vincent’s lap but said nothing. He sighed softly and took her chin between his fingers, lifting her face so she was looking into his eyes. He didn’t say anything, just stared into her honey-coloured eyes until she caved.

“Ren ate my food and I ate the snacks the guys brought over.”

“Lena…” Vincent admonished.

“But just breakfast and lunch! Dinner wasn’t that bad…”

“The rest was, yo,” Reno defended. “I really don’t see how that crap is supposed to help you get better faster or whatever. Popcorn’s got more substance than that, yo.”

Vincent glared at him for a second before breaking into a small smile and shaking his head. “I leave you alone for two days and see what you do. Chaos isn’t too far off—you really _are_ kids.”

“Tseng called Elena and Kunsel ‘children’,” Rude offered.

“Maybe that’s why Galian thinks Blade is Vince’s favourite,” Cissnei added with a smirk. 

“He what?” Vincent asked, blinking.

“You didn’t know? He called Tseng your ‘dearest comrade’. Reno is apparently the ‘most adventurous’ which certainly explains why he was flirting with Galian. I’m kinda curious about the rest of us,” she explained.

“What the hell were you thinking, Sparks?” Rude asked.

“Wait, hold on,” Vincent cut in. “Just what happened when Galian all but hijacked me?” His eyes flickered orange for a moment and he chuckled. “All right, all right. When Galian _outsmarted_ me _and_ Chaos?”

The four Turks that were present in the containment room told Vincent what had happened there. When Reno told him about Galian’s promise not to bite him and his reply to that, Vincent’s eyes flickered orange then gold and he laughed. 

“What, yo?”

“Galian wasn’t exactly flirting with you, Red, but your comment made him change his mind. Chaos was just pointing out the practicalities of the issue. Or rather, the _im_ practicalities.” 

Reno blushed, a bright colour that matched his hair and really made his tattoos stand out. He stuttered once, recovered, and broke into his customary lazy grin. “I’m sure we could make it work, yo. I mean, now that you’re all in good terms with each other and stuff.”

“We’ll see about that. As for what he calls the rest of you, Grimalkin… You’re the most persevering, Rude is a stalwart, and Elena is the kindest. He has one for Cloud and Rufus, too, but I don’t think those concern you.”

“Speaking of Rufus,” Tseng said, “he wanted me to tell you that he meant what he said back when you returned to Shinra: anything you need, all you have to do is ask. And we have the rest of today and tomorrow off but we have to be back at the office on Sunday. Well, he realises you might need more time than that but he would like you to return to work as soon as possible.”

Vincent nodded, thankful to the President for the reassurance and the reprieve. He knew it was a stretch to allow the Turks for downtime, particularly when he had been absent for two days without so much as an explanation or proper warning. 

_Perhaps you should include him in the explanation, then,_ Chaos offered _._

“Tseng? Would you mind inviting the President over for dinner?”

“Sure. Any particular reason, though?”

“I owe him and all of you an explanation. I would rather just give it once.”

“Dinner with the prez? We’ll need to get it done right, Bossman. Mind if I commandeer your kitchen again?”

“Not at all, Red.”

Reno then enlisted Rude, Cissnei, and Elena to go shopping with him—after Vincent made them promise they would take it easy on Elena and wouldn’t let her overexert herself.

“What about you, Aqualung?” he asked Tseng.

The Wutain shook his head. “I’ll pass. If it’s all right with Vin-sama, I’ll crash in his bedroom while you’re out shopping. I’m awake through sheer force of will.”

“Right-o,” Reno said. 

After everyone but Tseng and him were gone, Vincent moved to sit on the couch next to the Wutain. He pulled Tseng to his lap, wrapped his arms around him and kissed him soundly. The younger man kissed him back, moving to straddle him. On instinct, he ground his hips down against Vincent’s, drawing a moan that sounded like the gunman wasn’t the only one enjoying the Wutain’s attention. 

“At the risk of being repetitive,” Vincent breathed against Tseng’s jawline, “thank you. From all of us.”

“You’re welcome. Just… I’m not getting any younger, _itoshii_. You can’t keep scaring me like this.”

Vincent sighed and moved so Tseng was sitting next to him, keeping an arm wrapped around the other’s waist. 

“I’m sorry, Tseng. I… I’ll try not to.” He kissed his temple and patted his thigh. “Now, call Rufus and then off you go to bed. I need to eat something and then shower while I have a long talk with Chaos and Galian. I might join you afterwards.”

Tseng smirked and kissed Vincent before standing up. “Good luck with that.”

* * *

Sephiroth and Aerith where in Gast’s studio when he and Ifalna returned home. They had copies of Hojo’s journals covering most of the desk and some pages were on the floor. Sephiroth had highlighted several passages and added notes of his own. He was pacing the room when his parents entered and he whirled to face them, walking resolutely up to Gast and grabbing his arms.

“I think I have it!” he said in lieu of a greeting.

“Hello to you, too,” Ifalna said with a smile.

Aerith, who had been kneeling on the floor while she reviewed one of the Jenova Project notes, smiled and shrugged. “You’ll have to forgive him, mom. He really is on to something.”

“Well, let’s see it, then,” Gast said.

Aerith passed Sephiroth the note she had plus a few more that she picked from the desk. 

“All right, so, basically, Hojo concluded that Jenova did not respond to Galian because she knows he will die after confronting her,” Sephiroth began. He showed his parents each note as he spoke. “But she fears Chaos because he’s the only one capable of killing her and survive. In all his tests and yours she reacts accordingly. But not when I’m involved, at least not all the time. I was thinking about that after the incident at the labs last week and then earlier today when I heard Jenova. Last week, at dinner, Chaos said something to Vincent and I felt Jenova stir; she was angry and afraid, but it was very brief. That matches laboratory results. But at the lab, she went crazy when she heard Galian and calmed down when Chaos regained control. It was like his presence forced her to retreat. And today she reacted in fear to Galian, asking me to come and save her. If she’d followed her regular behaviour then she would’ve done nothing.”

He was aware that he was rambling and sounded slightly frantic but he was excited about the prospect of having found a clue. To his credit, he waited patiently for his father to review his notes. 

“This is huge,” Gast said at last. “I think it means that Hojo discarded the pheromones idea and instead tried to disable Jenova’s natural response to Chaos, allowing him to come close to you without her sounding the alarm. If it doesn’t always work that way, then that means whatever he did is destabilising for some reason.”

“But if he didn’t do anything for Sephiroth to call Galian why does he react so strongly to him?” Ifalna asked.

“He must have increased his natural response and the behemoth DNA must’ve overrun Galian’s system. When Galian mentioned the chemicals Hojo used, he probably meant the behemoth samples.”

“So you can fix it?” Aerith asked.

“I’ll need to review Sephiroth’s samples and Galian’s, but I think I can, yes. If it’s a matter of the behemoths’ DNA running rampant on Galian and flooding all three systems, all I have to do is recalibrate that. Then it’ll be a matter of repairing the protomateria and Vincent should be fine.”

Sephiroth sighed in relief and sat on Gast’s chair, covering his face with his hands. He took a moment to compose himself before asking about what had happened with Galian and Jenova.

“We sorted that out, somewhat,” Ifalna said. “Reno remembered a passage from that old Cetra book that mentions the war between Galian’s kind and the Cetra against Jenova. He thought that if I ordered Galian to ignore Hojo’s programming he might stand a better chance to fight it back, giving your father enough time to come up with a permanent solution. Galian agreed to try so he took an oath to protect and obey me and I implanted an order for him not to target Jenova in any of its forms.”

“Did it work?” Sephiroth asked.

“We think so,” Gast said. “We called you to check if Galian would respond to your voice like he had been doing lately but he didn’t. He says he didn’t feel anything within him stir.”

“You don’t sound very convinced,” Aerith pointed out.

“It’s a complicated matter. Vincent lost control of Galian because the protomateria began to act up. Chaos couldn’t intervene because Galian went directly to Jenova’s containment room and it would have been disastrous for him to force his way out there. Vincent wasn’t even aware of what was happening because he apparently reacted in the worse possible way to the Fail-Safe data and retreated into himself. I’m concerned that things like this will keep happening and it will all blow up in our face at one point or another if the Turks are allowed to do as they please just to protect their own. Rufus is covering for them and there’s nothing I can do about that.”

“You can’t blame them for having each other’s backs,” Ifalna admonished. “Besides, this is the first time Vincent has lost control like this. It’s not like it was entirely unexpected, either: he has been under a lot of stress. Just going back to Nibelheim must have been incredibly difficult for him. Then Elena and Kunsel get kidnapped and badly injured… It’s a miracle he’s still functional.”

“So he was already back when you returned?” Sephiroth asked.

Ifalna nodded. “I checked in with Rufus before leaving the office. Cissnei called him and told him Vincent was aware and back in control of his body.”

“What you did with Galian, Mother… Do you think it would allow me to meet with Vincent without it causing trouble?”

“I’m not really sure. It would be worth to try, I think. Do wait until next week, though. He’ll need time to make sense of everything that’s going on.”

Sephiroth nodded, visibly more relaxed that he’d been in days although it was undeniable that he felt excited, too. Aerith noticed and squeezed his arm, a soft smile on her lips.

“Everything will be fine, brother.”

The General nodded, feeling hopeful for the first time since his failed dinner with Vincent. Perhaps his sister was right and everything would be fine. 

He could only hope.

 

 


	10. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Needing comfort and support, Vincent decides to explain his recent behaviour to the Turks and Rufus. Dinner turns to something else and Vincent’s adopted family gains a new member.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff! Angst! Sex! You’ll find it all here, more or less in that order. 
> 
> Sex is of the m/m/m kind, with some m/m and f/f/m thrown in for good measure, just not as explicit. [If you’re really curious, the main ‘pairing’ in this chapter is Vincent/Rufus/Tseng.]
> 
> Also, a slight formatting change, in which **_Chaos’s dialogues now look like this_** and _Galian’s dialogues are now like this_ —only when said dialogue happens in someone's head. 
> 
> More notes at the end of the chapter to avoid spoilers.

Tseng woke up with Vincent spooning behind him and Elena tucked against his chest. The clock told him it was a quarter to seven—he’d slept a little under five hours. It wasn’t anywhere close to enough but he felt a lot better already. He was trying to figure out a way to leave the bed without jostling Elena when he felt Vincent’s arm tighten around his waist, pulling him closer to the gunman’s comfortingly warm chest. 

“Elena’s here,” Tseng murmured. 

Vincent managed to open one eye to confirm Tseng’s statement. “When did she get here?” His voice was gruff with sleepiness.

“No idea.”

The gunman closed his eye and gently pulled Elena closer to them. She brought her cast arm to Tseng’s hip and murmured something unintelligible, making Tseng chuckle. He kissed her forehead and held her close, all thoughts about leaving bed forgotten. 

Of course, his phone rang right then and he was forced to climb over Vincent to get it from the bedside table. As soon as he was sitting on the edge of the bed, Vincent slid to the middle of it and held on to Elena to recover the warmth Tseng took with him. 

“Hello, sir,” he all but yawned after checking the caller ID.

_“I woke you up. I’m so sorry, Tseng,”_ Rufus said.

“Don’t worry about it, sir. I was awake already, just barely. Are you on your way?”

_“Almost. I just need to know what’s the dress code for this and if you need me to bring anything.”_

Tseng stood up then and stretched leisurely before leaving Vincent’s room to see what Reno and the rest were up to.

“Casual is fine,” he said. He took a quick glance at his rumpled uniform and made a note to stop by his apartment for a change of clothes as soon as he hung up with Rufus. “Nothing you might mind getting wrinkled, since we’ll likely end up sitting on the floor. Let me ask Reno if he needs anything.”

_“All right.”_

Tseng leaned on the bar that divided the kitchen from the living room and took stock of what was going on. Reno had apparently decided to make stir-fried chicken and vegetables with rice and tempura. He was working on the main dish while Cissnei chopped the things that would go in the batter, which Rude was preparing. 

“Hey, guys. Rufus wants to know if you need him to bring anything.”

Reno tossed the chicken in the wok before turning to Tseng. “Hey, sleepy head. Um… I think we got everything we need, yo. We even got him some of that weird mint liqueur he likes.”

“Got it.” Returning the phone to his ear, he said, “Seems like they’re all set, sir. It’s perfectly all right to arrive empty-handed—we did invite you.”

_“I see. I’ll be there in half an hour, then.”_

“See you then, sir.”

As soon as he hung up, Cissnei came over with a glass of wine for Tseng. “Sleep okay?”

The Wutain nodded, rubbing his eye absently. “Yes, thank you. It wasn’t enough, though. Speaking of, how long has Elena been in there?”

“About three hours,” Rude said. “You didn’t notice her climbing into bed with you?”

Tseng shook his head. “I didn’t notice _Vincent_ , much less little Lena.”

“Are they still asleep, yo?”

“Vincent woke up long enough to realise Elena was there but they carried on sleeping before I even left the bedroom. I’ll go get them in a little bit—Rufus said he’d be here in about half an hour.”

“You need to change, Blade.”

Tseng looked at his clothes again and nodded. “Be right back. Do you need me to bring my coffee table, by the way?”

“We brought ours already, so it should be fine,” Rude said. 

“Okay. I won’t take long.”

* * *

Getting Elena out of bed was a chore and a half. She’d gotten very tired during the shopping trip and all but collapsed when they returned to Vincent’s apartment. The pain made her cranky and she wanted to skip dinner and keep on sleeping. Vincent ended up carrying her out to the living room and setting her on the couch with a bunch of cushions and blankets. He was hoping the smell of Reno’s cooking would eventually make her realise food wasn’t a bad idea, after all. 

They set the coffee tables in two rows of two and left one in the centre to set the food on. Tseng brought out his and Vincent’s tatamis to match the theme of Reno’s cooking. He had also dug up the tableware his grandmother had willed him; it had been one of the few things he managed to smuggle before his family realised he was leaving for Midgar. He almost never used it because it made him a bit too nostalgic but he thought the occasion called for it. It was, after all, the first time the whole team and Rufus spent time together. Even if the circumstances were less than ideal, it was still a good thing. 

Rufus arrived twenty past eight wearing jeans and a white ShinRa t-shirt under a charcoal vest. He hadn’t bothered to style his hair, allowing it to fall lazily over his eyes more than was usual. 

It was the first time Vincent saw Rufus in anything other than a pristine suit and he had to admit that the young man was rather attractive.

**_Mind off the gutter, Valentine. That’s not what tonight’s about,_** Chaos rumbled.

_I know, but I’m not_ blind _._

“Good evening, everyone,” Rufus greeted.

Everyone greeted back, and Rufus turned to Vincent with a small smile.

“Glad to see you, Vincent.”

The gunman nodded, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. “Thank you, sir. I’m sorry about all the trouble Galian caused today.”

Rufus shook his head, perching on the couch’s armrest closer to Elena’s feet. “Don’t worry about it. The security cameras didn’t catch anything and I was able to pin the alarms on Heidegger’s cronies.”

Vincent nodded, momentarily distracted by something Reno said. That gave Rufus time to focus on Elena, who was sulking when he arrived and barely returned his greeting. He knelt in front of the couch and pushed some hair out of the blond’s face.

“What’s wrong, Lena?”

“‘m tired and my feet hurt,” she pouted. 

“You should’ve stayed here instead of going shopping,” Tseng admonished.

“I was _fine_ ,” she groused. 

“You just came out of the med wing today,” Vincent said. He perched on the couch’s armrest that Rufus had vacated and petted her hair. “I know you don’t like sitting still but you have to take it easy. You said it yourself, you need to be better in time for the summit.”

“Just eat a little, Lena. It’ll make you feel better,” Rude cajoled.

“I got you some Snow Drops,” Cissnei said. “You can have them after dinner.”

That cheered Elena up somewhat, enough to get her to slide off the couch and sit at one of the coffee tables with her back resting on the couch. 

“Atta girl,” said Reno. “Now, y’all sit down while Tseng and I bring the food out.”

They set the wok with the stir-fry in the centre table along with the rice cooker and a large bowl of vegetables in tempura and smaller bowls filled with different sauces. Tseng passed along the plates while Reno refilled wine glasses and brought out beer bottles; Elena and Vincent were drinking raspberry flavoured mineral water. 

As dinner went on, talk centred mainly on how Elena and Vincent were doing overall. The fact that Rufus was around didn’t seem to disrupt the Turks’ dynamic at all, which reassured Vincent that Chaos’s idea to invite the President hadn’t been a mistake. 

Cissnei and Rude cleared the tables when they were done and brought out a chocolate and strawberries cake along with Elena’s Snow Drops and other candies and snacks. They also passed Rufus the mint liqueur and a glass of chocolate milk to Vincent. 

“I guess you don’t have blood sugar issues,” Rufus said as Rude passed a slice of chocolate cake to Vincent.

Vincent shook his head. “I do. I have a tendency towards hypoglycaemia. Chaos and Galian burn up a lot of energy even when they’re just dormant.”

“Oh. So it’s a lucky thing you have a thing for sweets, then.”

A grin this time. “A very lucky thing. Although, well, eating overall is something I grew unaccustomed to so it’s still a struggle.”

Rufus nodded. He had heard about most aspects of Vincent’s condition from Gast but the Turks painted a more complete picture. They all took care of the Director but it mostly fell upon Tseng and Reno to nurse Vincent back to health after he forgot to eat or didn’t get a proper night’s rest. 

“Anyway, that is as good a link as any to what it is I wanted to talk to all of you about,” Vincent said after a little while. “Fair warning, though: it’s all rather unpleasant.”

“It’s about that Fail-Safe thing Hojo came up with, isn’t it?” Rufus asked. Noticing Vincent’s uncomfortable look, he shrugged. “I’m sorry. Gast thought it necessary to give Lazard, Tseng, and I a brief rundown.”

“Did you tell the others, Tseng?”

Tseng shook his head. “No. All I told them was it had something to do with the files and things you brought back from Nibelheim. I didn’t feel it was my place to explain.”

“There wasn’t much to explain, anyway,” Rufus added. “All Gast told us was that Hojo somehow turned you into a weapon to neutralise Sephiroth in case he became a threat or Hojo himself felt threatened by someone in the company.”

“That’s… That’s about it, but it’s more complicated than that. At least on my part.”

Elena cuddled up to Vincent, resting her head on his shoulder. “You don’t really have to explain if you don’t want to, Vermeil.”

The gunman tensed up at the sound of the nickname in front of Rufus. He remembered how his pet name for Elena had slipped him at the medical wing and the curious look Rufus had given him. 

Noticing Vincent’s reaction, Rufus smiled and said, “Reno explained that to me. We have the same thing going on so you can relax.”

“ _Now_ can you tell us what Galian calls him, yo?”

Rufus blinked. “Galian has names for you, too? And for me?”

“More like titles,” Cissnei explained, “all in relation to Vincent’s perception of us. Or at least what Galian thinks is Vincent’s perception of us.”

Reno listed all five titles to Rufus and the blond couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“That’s strangely endearing,” he said. Turning to Vincent, he raised his eyebrows. “So? What’s my title?”

With an exaggerated sigh, Vincent relented. “He calls you ‘liege lord’ because you’re my boss. Unlike the rest, though, he hasn’t conferred to you the title of my foster child.”

“Oh? Why not?”

Vincent looked at Rufus for a moment, unsure whether the younger man was kidding or not. When Rufus’s lip twitched in an attempt not to smile, the gunman sighed and shook his head with a small smile. 

“A few reasons, all which can be properly amended with time.”

“Good. I know I usually leave you to it but I’ve come to realise I would like to be a bit more involved. After all, you’re keeping this lot safe and they saved _my_ life. It seems wrong to be so detached.”

“Would you mind explaining that, sir? You mentioned it before we raided the Avalanche hideout and the others have mentioned it in passing but I don’t know the full story.”

“I don’t mind, no. As long as you stop calling me sir while we’re off the clock.”

“I’ll try.”

Rufus nodded and poured himself a shot glass of mint liqueur. 

“You met my father. You know what an utterly horrible person he was. He was never around, at least not for me, but I was forced to attend meetings all the time so I had a pretty good idea of his policies regarding, well, everything. Additionally, up until I was fifteen I grew up under the strict tutelage of several instructors who had one mission: to turn me into my father so I would carry on with his policies after he died. I didn’t really want to but I didn’t want to get into trouble, either, so I attended my lessons and did as best as I could. Which, thankfully for me, was pretty good as it minimised his letters to express his disappointment in me. 

“I was supposed to go to a boarding school when I turned sixteen, but around that time headquarters was raided by Avalanche, killing half of the Science Department, Hojo and Hollander included. This forced my father to have the Turks track down Gast. He returned with Ifalna and Aerith and, much to my father’s dismay, with the Cetra knowledge that the Planet is alive and mako is basically its soul. They tried to get him to stop syphoning mako and finding alternate energy sources but he wouldn’t listen. However, I did. I took their teachings to heart and decided that when my turn came to run the company, I would fund research into alternate, clean energy sources and halt mako extraction. I made the mistake, though, of telling my father all this.”

Vincent nodded. “He must have been angry.”

“Furious,” Rufus said. “Even more so when I declined my automatic pass into the most prestigious boarding school in the Planet and went to Cosmo Canyon to study under Bugenhagen, instead. He threatened to disown me but there’s a very specific clause about that in the company’s charter. It was around then that he decided to acknowledge Lazard as his son but my brother declined to take our father’s name. Something about bad blood or some such nonsense. It didn’t matter, though, because just recognising him as his son was enough to put Lazard in line to take over the company once my father and I were dead.

“So with that bit taken care of, it was only a matter of making sure I was out of the picture for good. With that in mind, my father ordered Veld to make sure I had an accident before I returned to Midgar.”

“Veld was able to ignore the order because the department was in the middle of a transition,” Tseng picked up. “Your old team decided to retire collectively and we’d just been assigned as their replacements.”

“He used the fact that you were new recruits, most of you barely in your late teens, to buy time,” Vincent ventured.

Tseng nodded. “Rude was nineteen and had some military background because he had originally applied for Soldier so Veld sent him to Cosmo Canyon to keep Rufus safe in case Old Shinra had hired outside help to cover all his bases. He told the president that he would do some reckon and plan the best way to get rid of Rufus to get him off our backs.”

“We started taking turns to make it a little less suspicious,” Rude added. “Even Veld wound up there for a few months when things over here were calm enough.”

“We played dumb until Rufus turned nineteen,” Cissnei continued. “The president was beginning to get suspicious but things with Avalanche were getting sufficiently heated that he more or less dropped the subject.”

“And then he was polite enough to drop dead, yo.”

“I was twenty by then,” Rufus said. “The Turks had my back for nearly five years. I asked Veld why and he said the company was heading in the wrong direction and he was certain that I could get it back on track. He believed I could make things right and took a gamble, not only with my life and his but with everyone’s in his department. So even though I have a brother, the Turks became my actual family. And that includes you, Vincent, whether you acknowledge me as your son or not.”

Vincent shook his head with a small smile. “You are officially adopted now, Rufus-sama. Which means you get to choose a nickname for me and I can tell you mine for you.”

“Hey, how come he gets -sama, yo?” Reno interrupted before Rufus could reply.

“He’s my _boss_ , Red.”

“That’s not your nickname for me, is it?”

“It’s not. It’s actually _Kin no kitsune_. But that’s a bit long, so I guess it’ll be just Kinnoki.”

“Gold fox?” Tseng asked. Vincent nodded and the Wutain looked carefully at Rufus. “Okay, yeah, I see it.”

“Are you saying I’m foxy?” 

Rufus regretted his choice of words immediately. 

“All the time, yo,” Reno replied with a grin and a suggestive wink.

“I meant…” Rufus frowned. “Tseng, what did I mean?”

“Vulpine,” Tseng offered with a smirk. “And yes, you do look vulpine, Ru-san.”

“The legend of the fox spirits was always my favourite growing up,” Vincent added. “Now that you know that, let’s hear it, then. Do you have a pet name for me, kinnoki?” 

Rufus felt himself blushing slightly and wishing there was some way to hide it. The fact was that he did have a nickname for Vincent but he was worried the gunman wouldn’t like it. 

Rufus’s mother had died when he was six and the clearest memories of her that the blond had were the stories she read to him at bedtime. A lot of it had been mythology—from Cetra folklore to Wutain legends and everything in between, young Rufus grew up fascinated with gods and goddesses, heroes and mythical creatures, and the classical motifs of the battle between good and evil. All through it, he’d been particularly interested in the Junon mythos of the Underworld in which its entrance was guarded by a three-headed watchdog with black fur and glowing red eyes. The idea of such a creature both frightened and excited him, although the fear gradually disappeared as he grew up.

When Vincent returned to Midgar, Gast provided Rufus with the gunman’s file and showed him the interviews where the former Turk had talked about Chaos and Galian as well as the Jenova Project. Rufus was reminded of the Junon stories then, especially of Cerberus, the Underworld’s guardian. That, in addition to Veld’s stories about his missing partner, made Rufus forever associate Vincent with the formidable guard. 

“Cerberus,” Rufus said after a while, the red of his cheeks intensifying slightly. 

“Like the three-headed watchdog of Hell?” Elena asked.

“It sounds kind of horrible when you say it like that, but yes. I mean… By all accounts you’re a guardian, Vincent. You take care of your family and are loyal to them to the last. And, well, there’s, uh… there’s three uh… people? In your head. So, I… it seemed fitting.”

Vincent couldn’t help but chuckle at the blond’s blush and his fumbling explanation. Reaching past Elena, he kissed Rufus’s forehead briefly, making his blush even more noticeable.

“Thank you, Rufus-sama. I’ll be honoured to be called that by you.”

**_Don’t tell him mine yet_** , Chaos said. **_He’ll probably faint in embarrassment._**

“Was that Chaos?” Rufus asked, trying to stir the conversation elsewhere without really knowing what he was getting into. 

“Uh, yes. He has nicknames for pretty much everyone I know, too. Yours, though…”

“Can’t be worse than Baby Turk,” Elena groused playfully. 

That got everyone laughing and sort of forced Vincent to tell. 

“It’s ‘Little Prince’. More because of the story than anything else.”

Rufus thought about it for a moment before eventually smiling. “Fair enough. I like that story.”

Conversation drifted a bit before Vincent deemed it necessary to bring up the reason behind their meeting once again. 

“Like I said… There are things I’d like to explain to you even if you feel like I don’t need to give you explanations. It’s actually a bit selfish of me—I’m afraid that even if Ifalna managed to order Galian to stand down and leave Jenova and those with its cells in their systems alone, things are still going to get darker before getting brighter again. And it’ll be a lot easier for you to understand and help me if you know what it is we dug up back in Nibelheim.”

“Hey, no sweat, Vince. I told Galian that we would pick up whatever slack we could to help out and I meant it, yo.”

**_You got this_** _,_ Chaos said as he tried to pass some energy to Vincent to boost his confidence.

_You are safe in their company, Host_ , Galian added.  

Exhaling deeply and shakily, Vincent nodded. 

He started with the facts. He told them about his father’s letter and his medical records and how they had caught Hojo’s attention, therefore dragging him into the Jenova Project. Leaving behind the most disturbing details, he told them of Hojo’s notes about him, Chaos, and Galian. When it came to Sephiroth and the three boys Hojo and Hollander used on their experiments, he felt his eyes sting with the threat of tears but pushed on, retelling the incident as best as he could. 

“I don’t remember anything about the time I spent in the Nibelheim labs. Chaos has some fragmented memories but nothing regarding the incident. Apparently Galian took up the headspace where those memories had once been. Not that it matters much given the fact that Hojo kept the surveillance videos along with that blasted journal.

“According to him, I reacted to Sephiroth’s presence from the beginning, before he even came up with Fail-Safe. He never got around to theorising about it, perhaps because he thought it was something ‘unscientific’, like attachment to Lucrecia or something. I can’t be sure of it but Chaos thinks that’s the only possible explanation, other than…” He closed his eyes, trying to focus. “The only other explanation would be if Sephiroth and I were somehow genetically related and I were responding to paternal instincts but there’s no chance of that. It would’ve come up on one of the million tests run on either one of us over the years.”

“What if Hojo added some of your DNA to Sephiroth to accelerate his healing rate?” Tseng suggested. “You said he had your father’s research, so maybe he wanted to take advantage of your resilience to pass it on to the Soldier program.”

Vincent tilted his head, frowning. His eyes flickered gold a few times as he listened to Chaos. Eventually, he sighed. “You might be on to something there, Tseng-san. Something like that wouldn’t necessarily leave traces on Sephiroth’s DNA but it could be enough for me to pick up on it given Chaos’s abilities. No one would look for it because we all assumed that was something Jenova passed on to all subjects. I’ll have to discuss it with Gast.”

“But then why would you only react like this to Sephiroth?” Rude asked.

When everyone looked at him, Tseng shrugged. “Beats me. It was just an idea.”

“Well, Angel and Genesis were never at Nibelheim but Vincent has been looking after them since he came back. He wouldn’t let Gast just experiment on them all willy-nilly, remember?” Cissnei said.

Rufus snorted. “He was deeply offended by that. He gave me an earful while you were at Nibelheim.”

Vincent glared at nothing in particular. “He should’ve known better than to even suggest it in front of me.” 

“Maybe Hojo wanted to add Vincent’s abilities to the whole Soldier program,” Elena said. 

“But Vince doesn’t react like that to everyone in Soldier, yo.”

“Maybe they only used it on the original three. Gast changed the formula or whatever when he got here to avoid spreading Jenova further. He could’ve removed Vincent from the equation without realising it. I mean, Zack’s a First and his healing factor is higher than anyone below him but he still scars,” Tseng pointed out.

“You better keep all this medical insight to yourselves,” Rufus said with a smirk. “Otherwise Gast will want to spirit you away to the Science Department.”

A chorus of disapproval met the President’s comment, making him laugh. 

Vincent shook his head slowly, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. However, he soon became serious again. Taking a deep breath, he rubbed his neck before turning to Rufus.

“Rufus, would you happen to know just how comprehensive are the archives we keep on the orphanages run by the company at the time my father was alive?”

The blond shook his head slowly. “I’m afraid they don’t go back that far. Genesis looked up the children Hollander picked from the orphanage for his wager with Hojo and came up mostly empty. That wasn’t so long ago.” 

Vincent nodded, clearly defeated. “There’s nothing about the brothers, then?”

“All Genesis was able to find was that the children were found in the Northern Continent by a company detail and brought back to Midgar to be admitted to one of our orphanages. He’s pretty sure they were admitted into one of the facilities used by the Science Department precisely because they had no records of any kind, not even birth certificates.”

“That makes it a bit easier for me, then. If there are any samples from them left after Gast finishes treating Genesis and possibly Sephiroth, I want them. They deserve a proper burial; allowing them to sit on a shelf after everything Hojo put them through… After I…” 

The tears were there now and there was nothing he could do to keep them back this time. 

The reason he had retreated so deep within his own mind that Chaos couldn’t reach him were the nightmares that assaulted him after he crawled into bed on Wednesday. He had no memory of the incident but the surveillance video had been enough to provide his subconscious with the materials it needed to torture him. It wasn’t just Kadaj that he killed in his dreams—it was Sephiroth, Cloud, each of the Turks, even Veld and Rufus. Everyone he’d ever held dear dying at his hands—or Chaos’s or Galian’s—in the lab as Jenova and Hojo looked on, gloating and wallowing in his despair. Lucrecia was there only when his victim happened to be Sephiroth, and she always knew just what to say to break his heart. 

Tseng was at his side in a second, holding him close while he whispered reassurances in Wutain. The rest looked on with matching looks of anguish. Rufus in particular felt horribly inadequate as he had no idea how to comfort a man that he’d always thought of as paragon of composure. 

“He was just a child,” Vincent sobbed against Tseng’s shoulder. “He was scared and in pain, he just wanted to escape with his brothers… And I—” 

“You weren’t yourself, _itoshii_. Chaos wasn’t himself, either, and Galian was acting on instinct. None of you are to blame for what Hojo and Hollander did, for all they started.”

“I don’t want to do that to Sephiroth,” Vincent nearly whimpered. “I’d rather go back to the coffin and rot. How could he—? That’s not… I don’t understand what I did, why…?” A frustrated grunt interrupted him as he pulled away from Tseng to clean his face. “It’s one thing seeing the chance to use me as a weapon against Shinra. It’s another one entirely to… to take whatever natural link I have with Sephiroth and twist it around into something so… so _crude_ and humiliating. And not just to me, to him, as well.”

“Don’t try to apply reason to anything McFugly did for shits and giggles, Vince. From what I know of the man, he was a spiteful son of a bitch, yo.”

“Understatement of the century, Firefly,” Rufus said. “Veld once told me that he made the mistake of inquiring after the whereabouts of Vincent’s remains once Hojo deigned file the report listing him as KIA. Hojo told him to mind his own business and when Veld didn’t drop the subject right away,he made it a point to make sure dangerous lab specimens managed to break free in areas where the Turks were stationed. Nearly got them all killed once with a pack of rabid Nibel wolves.”

Veld had told Vincent about that. The gunman was surprised to learn that Veld had continued investigating even after Old Shinra told him to drop the subject and just find a replacement for Vincent. He wasn’t nearly as surprised to hear his partner came up empty wherever he looked, even when he went down to Nibelheim himself and checked the mansion top to bottom. Hojo was still alive at the time, which meant his aides were still at the mansion, ready to hide its secrets from anyone who thought to pry, even the Director of the Turks. 

“Everything’s going to be fine, Deadeye. Ifalna is helping with Galian and I’m sure together you and Gast will find a permanent solution to the rest. Please don’t let Hojo keep on screwing our family from beyond the grave.”

“I know, but I… I leave a mess wherever I go. I should just—”

Rufus moved so he was kneeling in front of Vincent, their knees brushing. He grabbed the gunman’s shoulders, sapphire staring resolutely into wavering crimson.

“Say quit and I’ll have Rude beat some sense into you,” he warned him. “Cissnei’s right: you can’t let Hojo screw us over from wherever he wound up after dying. It’s not your fault that your parents couldn’t bear the thought of losing you when you were a baby and your father resorted to extreme measures to keep you at their side; it’s not your fault Hojo ransacked your father’s office after his death and found your medical files; it’s not your fault Hojo then decided to build upon your father’s research to turn you into his latest experiment. It’s not your fault Lucrecia turned out to be every bit as deranged as her husband, and it’s not your fault she decided to let him play god with their child. It’s not your fault that Hojo and Hollander were so fucked up in the head that they felt the need to wreck the lives of six young men, getting three of them killed in the process. It’s not your fault Kadaj died, just as it’s not your fault that Galian has been targeting Sephiroth. 

“If you hadn’t been around, Lucrecia and Hojo would’ve still used Sephiroth for the Jenova Project and they probably would’ve found someone else to graft Chaos and Galian unto. Someone not strong enough to not only tame both of them but to get them on his side, as well. Someone who wouldn’t have given his life to protect Sephiroth from his parents, who wouldn’t have come back thirty years later with the necessary knowledge to further stabilise him and Genesis and Angeal. Someone who wouldn’t have gone back to Nibelheim to bring back even more information about all of Hojo’s sick little side projects, allowing Gast to _completely_ heal Genesis. 

“I know all you went through was nothing short of hell and I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone. But there is no ‘for better or for worse’ here—it’s a _good_ thing that you’re here, now. You saved the Turks’ by agreeing to return to us. You can’t quit now, Vincent. Not when you have all of us to pick up the slack and guard your back and do whatever it takes to make sure you’re safe and happy. Even a guardian needs to be protected now and then. Allow us to do that for you.”

Rufus hugged Vincent then, wrapping his arms tightly around the gunman’s shoulders. He was afraid he had crossed a line, particularly given the fact that he’d never had cause to admonish Vincent and he’d touched some pretty sensitive topics. When Vincent sobbed and held on tightly to him, though, he knew he’d said the right thing.

“It’s okay,” Rufus said soothingly. “It’s okay if you’re angry and sad and confused. Just don’t give up, please. We need you.” 

“ _I_ need you,” Vincent said, eyes closed tight and tears still flowing freely. “I can’t do this on my own. Especially because…” 

He chocked and couldn’t go on but the Turks knew what he meant.

“Vale… Sephiroth still wants to talk to you.”

“We ran into Aerith at the Wutain specialty market,” Elena said. “She told us that Sephiroth knows what Ifalna and Galian did and he wanted to meet with you.”

“Ifalna told him to wait, though. To give you time to recover and all,” Cissnei finished.

“See? It’ll be all right.” Tseng rested his forehead against Vincent’s shoulder and felt him more than saw him shake his head. With a frown, he asked,“What’s wrong?”

“The other part of Fail-Safe,” Vincent sighed tiredly, unwilling to let go of Rufus. “It’s not just that Galian is locked on to Sephiroth’s specific strain of Jenova’s DNA. To make sure the programming would be successful, Hojo intended to have Sephiroth give out a pheromone-based mating call. That implies that Sephiroth will be attracted not to me but to Galian, and all because of chemicals that will disappear once Gast figures out how to shut it down.”

A weary sob had him holding on tighter to the younger man. He did his best to hide his face with his hair and Rufus’s shoulder, feeling too vulnerable, even in front of the few people he could count on not to judge him. 

Tseng sighed and moved so he was sitting behind Vincent, rubbing his back in wide, soothing circles. As he did so, his dark eyes caught Rufus’s bright blue ones and after a silent exchange, the President’s eyes widened slightly in realisation. 

“You love him,” Rufus said, holding Vincent closer. 

The gunman tensed for a second before nodding, not trusting his voice not to break. 

“You’re sure, Vale?”

Another nod. 

“Not as a hypothetical son but as in ‘I love you, let’s date’?” Reno asked, receiving another nod in response. “All right, then. We’ll wait for Gast to get you both fixed and if Sephiroth loses interest then he’s an idiot and we’ll just have to make him see he’ll never find anyone better than you, Vince.”

“Red…”

“You did just say you love him, didn’t you, yo?”

“Yes, but—”

“And the Big Boss here just told you we’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy, right?”

“He did, but—”

“That includes playing matchmakers, Vince.”

“Red, I _really_ —”

“Oh, shush, Cerberus. This is an argument you’re _not_ going to win.”

“Rucchan!”

“Tseng calls me that, sometimes. I like it, so you can use it, too. But you’re still not winning.”

Vincent finally disentangled himself from Rufus and did his best to glare menacingly at the younger man. The absolute resolve in his sapphire eyes, however, had him caving in record time. With a smug smile, Rufus took out a handkerchief and began drying Vincent’s face.

_I like him more already._

**_Hear, hear._ **

_Traitors. Both of you._

**_Oh, brighten up already._ **

“What’s going on now?”

“Mutiny. Chaos and Galian agree with Rufus, so I’m outvoted on all fronts.”

There was something definitely Reno-like in the blond’s roguish smile as he slid closer to Vincent, wrapping his arms around the gunman’s shoulders almost lazily. Searching Vincent’s eyes for any signs of discomfort or rejection, Rufus decided he found none and he straddled the older man, shuddering pleasantly when warm hands settled on his hips. He heard the others moving the tables out of the way and wondered briefly about the logistics of a seven-some. Seven-way? 

Another thought crashed into that last one, giving Rufus pause. If Vincent wasn’t pushing him away then that meant there shouldn’t be an issue, but given how emotional the gunman had been a few minutes ago, the blond thought it would be best to make sure.

“I’m not trying to kill whatever mood we’re creating here, Vincent, but… What about Sephiroth?”

A wry smile and a small shrug were the dark-haired man’s first reactions. He then leaned forward, kissing the blond’s neck slowly, gently teasing the soft skin with his tongue.

“Whatever I may end up having with him is still a long way into the future, whereas you’re here… now… And so are we.”

When Vincent pulled away from his neck, Rufus saw Vincent’s left eye turn a cloudy shade of orange. Before he could ask about it, gold flickered across the same eye before settling on crimson again.

“Vee?”

Vincent grinned, and Rufus had to bite back an aroused groan when he caught a glimpse of fangs in the gunman’s mouth.

“Like I said, _we_ are here. The other people in my head have decided to stick around for whatever happens next, _shachō._ And since you’re the newest member of our family, you get to go first, _Rucchan._ ” 

Vincent punctuated the endearment with an upward roll of his hips and a firm squeeze on the blond’s hips, consciously letting him feel the contained power under the motion. 

“That’s all well and good,” Reno drawled, “’s long as I get a go with Galian, yo.”

The redhead was standing to Vincent’s right and he knelt next to him when the gunman motioned for him to do so. As soon as they were close enough for it, Vincent grabbed Reno’s shirt with his right hand and pulled him in for a kiss that, from where Rufus was sitting, looked more like some sort of oral battle that Reno was willingly losing. When the gunman finally released the redhead, Reno was panting as if he’d run a marathon and blushing accordingly, and both of Vincent’s eyes were orange.

“Wait your turn, adventurous one,” Galian said with a predatory grin. “If I recall correctly, you are not required to work tomorrow. None of you, in fact.”

Reno licked his lips and nodded, feeling his pants becoming tighter with Galian’s implied promise. 

It wasn’t until he sat back to give Vincent and Rufus their space—he really didn’t trust his legs at the moment—that he noticed Vincent’s right hand had partially transformed into a less deathly version of Galian’s claw. At the moment, though, it was shifting back to the gunman’s human hand while orange eyes turned red again. 

“Don’t worry,” Vincent said. “We figured things out earlier so none of you is in any danger. Still, if you’d rather not—”

“Are you kidding? That was hotterthan Firaga,” Cissnei interrupted. She was kneeling next to Elena, eyeing Vincent and Rufus with unabashed desire. 

“I think you’ll be the one in trouble, Vale. There’s six of us and only one of you.”

“Three,” Vincent corrected. “One body, yes, but three personas. All of us in need to express our thanks in as intimate a way as possible. And I’m very sure I erred on the side of caution when I ate all that cake.”

“Are you really sure it’s okay, Vermeil? With the protomateria and all, I mean.”

“It’s fine,” Chaos’s rumbling voice brought shivers down everyone’s backs. “All you need to worry about is keeping up.”

The wink he threw them was all the incentive Rufus needed to lock his lips with Chaos—or Vincent, or Galian, he wasn’t quite sure who was in charge anymore. All he was aware of were strong hands moving from his hips to his ass, pulling him closer to a growing erection that rubbed his own with just the right amount of pressure and friction to raise his temperature and make his breathing that bit more laboured. The tongue assaulting his mouth tangled with his, keeping it away from sharp fangs but sometimes teasing with them, adding enough pressure to further arouse him without breaking skin. Vincent tasted sweet beyond the chocolate and strawberries he’d eaten not too long ago, and a bit spicy, too, like cardamom, maybe. Whatever it was, Rufus found himself delving deeper into the gunman’s mouth, sucking on his tongue to get more of his strangely addictive taste.

He moaned in protest when Vincent drew back from his mouth, sucking on his lower lip before leaving a wet trail down his chin and neck. When he realised his vest was being pulled off, he cooperated and threw it behind him, barely aware of Cissnei’s playful protest to look where he was throwing his things. The hungry look on Vincent’s eyes as he moved to remove his t-shirt made Rufus blush and shiver slightly. His skin broke into goosebumps when the t-shirt joined his vest who knew where, the cool air of the room seeming absolutely chilly against his heated skin. His nipples hardened and Vincent took the chance to suck on one of them, nipping it gently before running his tongue over it, leaving it wet and throbbing before moving to the other one and lavishing it with the same thorough treatment. 

His hands had been tangled in Vincent’s dark hair, too preoccupied with the heat and electricity coursing through his body to do anything of use with them. As he felt the gunman shift, he moved his hands to the other’s shoulders, hanging on as he was lowered to the floor on his back. Before he could adjust, Vincent was kissing him again, deeply and almost urgently, his hands traveling down his sides to the waistband of his jeans, undoing the button and zipper, parting the fabric just enough to expose a couple of inches of soft, creamy skin. His lips soon followed, leaving a trail of kisses, licks, and nips along the blond’s chest and belly. Vincent stopped on Rufus’s bellybutton, dipping his tongue inside and tickling the younger man, his breathy laugh trailing off into a wanton moan that had a bit of Vincent’s name in it. 

Vincent chuckled and, after sucking briefly on Rufus’s bellybutton, he knelt with his legs straddling the blond’s hips and his hands splayed on his chest and stomach. He took stock of the President’s condition, smiling when he noticed the deep blush on his face and neck, the way he kept licking his lips slowly and breathing heavily, the way his bright eyes had darkened with lust, the way his arms stretched lazily above his head in a deceptively submissive gesture. The gunman let his long fingers trace the muscles on the blond’s torso, adding extra pressure whenever Rufus arched into his touch. He teased until the man under him squirmed and bucked against his hips, a frustrated little grunt escaping his lips. 

“What was that, _shachō_?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Hmm. I see. So, you won’t mind if I just keep on doing what I’m doing?” 

He flicked his thumbs over the blond’s nipples, lifting his hips out of the way when Rufus tried to buck against him. 

“Vee!” 

“ _Hai, shachō_?”

“Stop teasing, Cerberus.”

Vincent smiled, fangs clearly visible again. “ _Hai, shachō._ ”

He slid forward, running his palms along the length of Rufus’s torso and arms, locking their lips together at the same time he laced his fingers with the blond’s. He brought their hands to his hips, placing Rufus’s hands on his t-shirt, silently giving him permission to take it off if he wanted. 

Breaking the kiss, the young President licked Vincent’s jaw slowly, sucking briefly on the soft skin right beneath his earlobe. 

“Are you sure, Vee?” he whispered in his ear.

Vincent shuddered, Rufus’s warm breath tickling his skin and drawing a soft sigh from his lips. He nodded, sucking on the blond’s earlobe before replying. “I’m not ashamed or worried, Kinnoki.”

Rufus fisted his hands on the hem of Vincent’s t-shirt, slowly pulling it upwards. Vincent knelt up and bent forward at the same time, allowing Rufus to tug the t-shirt off before tossing it towards the couch. His hands then went to Vincent’s bare hips—his jeans, being about a size too big, couldn’t hold on to the gunman’s lean frame and had ridden down at some point—, fingers tracing muscle and scars, taking in the almost ivory complexion of the man on top of him. His own skin was a creamy white but the contrast between the two tones was rather sharp; Vincent’s skin seemed almost translucent under his hands. 

The scars were easy to ignore, though. Rufus had seen the ‘autopsy’ photos Hojo had sent along with Vincent’s fake death certificate and read Gast’s reports. It still hurt him, like it hurt the Turks, to see the damage Vincent had suffered at Hojo’s hands. Knowing it was a delicate subject and not wanting to ruin the mood, the blond decided not to comment on any of it. Particularly on the rather vicious looking scars on the gunman’s left arm. They trailed all the way to the back of his hand, which was probably why Vincent always wore gloves—the fingerless kind—, even during hot summer days. 

Trailing his hands upwards and mimicking Vincent’s earlier inspection of his torso, Rufus rolled his hips, drawing out a surprised groan from the gunman. He grinned, feeling strangely proud to have made the older man react like that. His hands caressed the gunman’s belly briefly before resting on his waist.

“You’re too skinny, Vee,” he commented teasingly. “Aren’t the Turks taking care of you?”

Tseng, who had slipped deeper into Vincent’s apartment at some point, walked back into the living room carrying a small canvas bag. Catching Rufus’s last comment, he smirked and sat on the couch, playfully nudging the blond’s side with his foot. 

“If you want him to put on weight, Ru-san, you’ll need to find a way to make him eat five or six times a day and then lounge about doing nothing. He burns calories faster than anyone I’ve ever met so there’s no way for him to fill out that lanky frame of his.”

Vincent raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. “‘Lanky’?”

“Not that _I’m_ complaining,” Tseng said with a suggestive smirk. “I like you lean and mean, _koishii_.”

Anticipating the halfhearted complaint, Tseng slid the floor and leaned forward to kiss Vincent’s pouting lips. He miscalculated his move, though, and ended up balancing on Rufus’s chest with one hand, making the blond huff and squirm. The gunman’s reaction to that was a groan that made Tseng’s cock twitch. Vincent must have noticed something because he lifted Tseng so the Wutain was straddling the President, giving the gunman better access to his mouth and the rest of his body.

“Songbird! I was here first, you know?”

An impatient wave was all the answer he got from Tseng given that Vincent refused to let him go. Rufus huffed but enjoyed the sight in front of him. Particularly when Vincent slid Tseng’s shirt off his arms, revealing the Wutain’s back. A tattoo of Leviathan took up most of Tseng’s back, rich and vibrant greens, blues, and silvers rippling along with the man’s movements. Rufus couldn’t hold back the need to run his hands across the smooth lines of the Water God his bodyguard still held in highest regard. 

The action earned him a shudder and Tseng reached back with one hand intending to touch Rufus’s chest. Instead, the blond caught the Wutain’s hand in his and brought it to his lips, licking and sucking on each finger slowly. More moans followed, some of them carrying hints of the blond’s name in them as Vincent had finally released Tseng’s lips in favour of kissing and licking his way down his neck to his collarbone and chest. 

Behind them, Reno’s amused snort caught Rufus’s attention. Propping himself up on his elbows to get a view of the other four, he found Cissnei doing her best to help Elena out of her blouse without injuring her arm further. The cast was an obvious hindrance to that.

“How did you get dressed this morning, pixie?” Cissnei asked.

“The nurse helped,” Elena said. She had managed to slip off the right sleeve and she was currently trying to get the left one over the cast without tearing the fabric.

“Just cut it, yo. I’ll buy ya a new blouse if that’s what worries ya.”

Elena pouted, shaking her head. “I like this blouse.”

“Reno might be on to something, Lena. I just can’t—”

Rude gently pried Cissnei and Elena’s hands off the blouse and set to work on it. After about a minute of careful stretching, folding, and some bargaining with the stubborn garment, he got the blouse safely past the cast and off Elena’s arm. He then folded it and placed it neatly on a nearby chair. Before he had time to say or do anything else, Elena was on his lap with her right arm wrapped around his shoulders and her left awkwardly wedged between them as she kissed him deeply, almost desperately. Mindful of her arm, Rude took the hint and kissed her back, dextrous fingers making quick work of her bra and tossing it aside afterwards. 

Cissnei took the chance to inch closer to Elena, kissing her back and caressing her sides. Reno lost no time moving behind Cissnei, quickly getting rid of her top and sports bra to kiss and lick the area between her shoulder blades while his hands wrapped around her, playing with her breasts and adjusting his movements to get louder moans and groans from her. Eventually, Cissnei turned around and all but tore Reno’s half-buttoned shirt off him before wrapping her arms and legs around him, grinding against his hips while kissing him deeply. 

“Enjoying the view, _shachō_?”

Tseng’s husky voice brought Rufus’s attention to the two men currently sitting on him. Tseng had turned around and was now straddling Rufus with his back turned to Vincent. The gunman was busy kissing the Wutain’s neck while undoing his slacks and sliding his hands beneath his underwear, teasing his hardened cock. 

“Both views,” Rufus breathed. “Feeling a bit neglected, though.”

“Easily remedied,” Tseng replied.

In one smooth movement, the Wutain slid off the President. At the same time, the gunman tugged the blond’s jeans and boxers off him, pausing to remove his socks, too. As soon as the blond was completely naked, Vincent slid between his legs, giving his cock a long, slow lick from base to tip. Rufus’s back arched off the floor as a surprised cry was wrenched from his lips. Smirking, Vincent repeated the motion a few times, making sure to lick all around the younger man’s cock. He then licked the precum off its head before wrapping his lips around it and slowly taking all of it down his throat. The blond’s drawn out moan made him groan, the vibration further arousing the man underneath him. 

Silently, Vincent stretched his left hand towards the couch. He then closed his hand around the tube Tseng passed him and, without missing a beat, coated his right index and middle fingers with lubricant. Leaving the tube close by, he released Rufus’s cock with a deliberate _pop_. This made the younger man protest and look down into Vincent’s gleaming eyes and smirking lips. Before he had time to protest, the gunman pushed his index finger inside him, slowly and firmly. He moved it in and out a few times before adding a second finger, scissoring both digits to stretch him while his mouth wrapped around the President’s throbbing member again, soft strands of ebony hair tickling his heated skin as the gunman’s head bobbed up and down matching the rhythm of his probing fingers. 

When a third finger joined the first two and brushed against his prostate, Rufus nearly screamed. He was riding Vincent’s fingers with abandon now, desperately trying to get more friction, more pleasure. Just when he felt a familiar warmth coiling on his lower abdomen, the gunman’s fingers and mouth abandoned him, leaving him feeling empty and annoyed. He opened his eyes, realising they’d been tightly closed for some time, and glared as darkly as he could in the gunman’s direction. 

“Sorry, _shachō_ , but I really, _really_ want to feel you around me.”

“And I really, _really_ want to feel you inside me,” Tseng added.

Rufus looked to his right and licked his lips at the sight that greeted him. Tseng was kneeling naked in front of the couch, right hand wrapped firmly around his cock while his left hand was behind him, three fingers buried deep within his ass. Apparently, the Wutain had taken it upon himself to get ready while Vincent did the same for their young boss. 

 Looking between Tseng and Vincent, Rufus realised for the first time just how physically similar both men were. He supposed some of it had to do with the fact that both had Wutain blood in them, but they really looked like they were actual family, either father and son or siblings. The mere thought did nothing but fan his lust, and he found himself moaning wantonly just at the idea of finding himself pressed between these two men.

With a grin that had a bit of all three people in Vincent’s body in it, the gunman stood up just long enough to take off his jeans and underwear before kneeling again and flipping Rufus so the blond was on his hands and knees in front of him. Tseng soon joined them, laying on his back and shimmying into position beneath Rufus. The blond leaned forward, rubbing his cock against the Wutain’s as he kissed him deeply. He nearly bit down on Tseng’s tongue when Vincent reached between them to grab their cocks in one of his hands, coating them liberally in lubricant. He then did the same to his cock before rubbing it up and down between the blond’s buttocks, smearing precum and lube all over the soft globes. 

“Ready when you are, _kinnoki_ ,” Vincent breathed on Rufus’s ear, sucking loudly on his earlobe. 

Not trusting his voice at all, Rufus nodded and grabbed Tseng’s thighs, spreading them as the Wutain reached for the blond’s erection and guided it to his quivering entrance. The President pushed slowly forward, gasping at the intense heat of Tseng’s insides. Soon he was buried to the hilt in his tight passage, his cock twitching and eager to start pumping in and out. Tseng shuddered and tangled his hands on Rufus’s soft hair, pulling him down for a kiss while he waited for his body to adjust to the blond’s cock and for Vincent to take his position so they could begin properly.

After taking a moment to admire Tseng’s blissful expression, Vincent grabbed Rufus’s hip with one hand while he aligned his cock with the blond’s entrance with the other. He gently pushed forward while he pulled Rufus to him, exhaling shakily when the two men under him moaned lustfully because of the chain reaction his movement caused. He kept pushing until his balls slapped against Rufus’s ass, aware that the pressure he was putting on the young man’s hip would probably leave a rather interesting bruise but more preoccupied with giving the blond time to adjust before he started moving. Loosening his grip now might make his overeagerness ruin the whole thing for Rufus and Tseng. 

It was Tseng that got them started. He locked his lips on Rufus’s Adam’s apple and sucked before moving his hips down, clenching around the blond’s cock. Rufus then pushed forward to meet Tseng’s thrust while Vincent pulled back only to pull Rufus against him when just the head of his cock remained inside the President; the motion drove Rufus towards Tseng again, and soon they had a slow, firm rhythm going on. They alternated kissing each other, kissing and sucking on whatever patch of skin they could reach when their lips weren’t otherwise occupied. 

Tseng was trying to hold on, not wanting to come so soon but the view offered to him was far more than he could take. Vincent’s long hair stuck to his neck and to Rufus’s shoulders like ink as the gunman’s long, slender fingers wrapped around Rufus’s neck possessively to pull him back into an open mouthed kiss. The fact that Vincent’s other hand was around Tseng’s cock, stroking it in rhythm to their movements didn’t help matters any. 

The Wutain wrapped his legs around both men, causing their thrusts to become quicker and shallower, heightening his arousal. He was panting and moaning constantly now, moving his hips faster and harder against Rufus while his hands went to the blond’s shoulders, none too gently reminding his bosses that his lips were lonely, too. 

Vincent smirked as his mouth left Rufus’s, a shimmering strain of saliva joining their lips before collapsing. The gunman leaned forward, pressing the blond flush against Tseng to capture the Wutain’s lips in his, sucking on his tongue and entwining his left hand with the Wutain’s right. 

“Hold on, Corvus,” he breathed next to his ear. “Just a little longer, _nee_?”

Tseng groaned, Vincent’s voice going straight to his groin. He held on to Rufus’s shoulder with his free hand, licking his lips before replying. “I’ll try, but it’s… _ngh_ … never just a little with you, _koishii_ …”

Rufus chuckled before a groan cut him short. “I’m not sure I can keep this up much longer, Vee… You’re both just… _ahn…_ ”

It was the gunman’s turn to laugh. He sat on his knees, keeping Rufus on all fours while he increased the speed and intensity of his thrusts. He knew Tseng was close because all the tell-tale signs were there: he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore, one hand was tangled in his hair while the other held on to Rufus’s hip to anchor himself physically and mentally, and he was moaning constantly, muttering in Wutain until he was no longer able to form an intelligible word, let alone a sentence. 

As for Rufus, he supposed the blond was also close to orgasm. He was meeting his thrusts almost desperately, pumping Tseng’s cock frantically while he moaned incoherently. Some of the things Vincent could make out included his and Tseng’s name, as well as pleas for ‘more’ and ‘faster’ and something that sounded a lot like ‘beautiful’, which made the gunman grin and Galian bristle.

Without much of a warning, barely a strangled moan that might have been Rufus’s name mingled with Vincent’s, Tseng came all over his stomach and torso, his hot, thick sperm coating Rufus’s hand. The young President groaned at the added pressure around his cock, the Wutain’s spasming body driving him closer to the edge even as he kept driving into the other man’s body. As he coaxed the last drops of cum off Tseng’s cock with his hand, Rufus nearly lost whatever self-control he still had when the dark haired man below him took his hand in his and brought it to his reddened lips, licking and sucking his own cum off the blond’s fingers. 

Vincent pulled him up then, drawing his cock out of Tseng’s body with the motion. There was no room to protest, though, not when his back was flush against the gunman’s chest and he could feel his heart thundering against him, one faintly calloused hand wrapped firmly around his cock, pumping it just this side of roughly, the other one splayed along his neck, pulling his head back into a sloppy open-mouthed kiss that did nothing to hush his abandoned moans, all the while Vincent kept hammering in and out of him with enough force to push him away from the gunman with each motion. His own hands were busy trying to find some sort of purchase to bring himself closer to Vincent. After some fumbling and flailing, he settled with bringing one arm back to tangle his hand in the gunman’s hair while his other hand grabbed on to the gunman’s thigh, short, blunt nails digging desperately into the yielding flesh beneath.

Just when he thought he was way beyond the limits of his endurance, the hand that had been stroking his cock stopped abruptly, only to be replaced by wet heat. A quick glance to his groin showed Tseng on his knees with Rufus’s cock down his throat, teasing his balls with one hand—and, if Vincent’s strangled moan turned snarl was any indication, the gunman’s, as well. The blond knew he should stop looking if he wanted to last longer, but the enraptured look on the Wutain’s eyes and the playful wink he gave him came before his brain could even issue the order to close his eyes or look away. 

With a cry that was equal parts release and regret, Rufus came into Tseng’s mouth. The Wutain brought a hand to his hip to still him and make him slow down in his bucking, swallowing as much of the blond’s cum as he could. Vincent also stopped his movements, not wanting Tseng to choke, but resumed as soon as he saw his second-in-command let go of the President’s member with a hearty suck. 

Tseng took a moment to compose himself and admire the view before shuffling closer to his bosses, catching Rufus’s lips with his and kissing him soundly. The fact that he was sure the blond could taste both their releases in his mouth exhilarated him and he felt his cock twitch against the President’s. He aligned his member so it rubbed against the blond’s as he continued to kiss him almost lazily, resting resting one hand on Rufus’s hip and the other on Vincent’s. The action apparently brought the gunman’s attention to him because, next thing he knew, Rufus was panting against his neck while Vincent kissed him deeply, sucking on his tongue with one hand tangled in his hair. 

When Vincent pulled back from the kiss to run his teeth down Rufus’s neck before resting on his shoulder, Tseng knew the gunman was about to come. With a playful smirk that went by unnoticed by the two men before him, the Wutain slid his hand from Vincent’s hip to his lower back, fingers trailing muscle until they found the cleft between the man’s buttocks. He then ran his middle and index fingers down the divide, quickly diving inside the gunman’s entrance, thrusting in and out. The angle wasn’t good enough for him to find his boss’s sweet spot, but he knew the friction would be enough to help bring Vincent over the edge.

Vincent shuddered at the invasion, fighting the urge to bite down on Rufus’s shoulder—he had no idea if the younger man would appreciate it and he was in no shape to ask about it. Mentally shoving Galian aside to rein in his most feral instincts, he brought his lips to the blond’s ear to ask something that was important enough to try to clear his head. 

“ _Kinnoki…_ Want me to come inside or out…?”

Rufus moaned against Tseng’s neck and somehow mustered the strength to lift his head enough to be able to answer. “In-inside… Goddess, inside, _please_ …”

Vincent brought both hands to Rufus’s hips, holding on to him with a grip so tight it was bound to leave bruises, and thrust deeply into the younger man’s smouldering heat. The blond’s wanton moans and Tseng’s enticing encouragements—plus his skilful fingers—finally added to the sensory overload in his body and sent him groaning into orgasm. He shuddered as he emptied himself inside Rufus, body jerking spasmodically against the blond even as Tseng’s fingers left him in favour of firmly cupping his ass. 

He sighed, contented, and kissed Rufus lazily before locking his lips with Tseng. Slowly, knowing the blond would probably collapse if he moved too quickly, he slid out of Rufus’s ass, wrapping both arms around the younger man’s waist and chest to hold him tightly against his chest. Once his breathing evened out, he planted a kiss on the President’s forehead, a satisfied smile curving his lips.

“Welcome to the family, _Kinnoki._ ”

Rufus laughed, bringing a hand up to cup Vincent’s face. “Thank you, Cerberus.”

Reno sauntered over right then, completely naked, red hair loose and flowing freely down his back and shoulders, his cock already hard and glistening with precum. He gave the trio on the floor an appraising look before running his fingers across Vincent’s back, grinning as the gunman’s skin rippled in their wake.

“Yo… Think you can let Galian out to play now, Bossman?”

Vincent let his head fall back, and Reno felt his cock harden further when he saw the hungry look on the gunman’s red and orange eyes. “Sure you’re up for it, Red?”

“Fuck yeah, yo.”

With a predatory grin, Vincent gently handled Rufus over to Tseng. The Wutain looked positively amused while the young President was still pretty out of it, barely grunting at being handed over like a doll. Once the blond was safely in Tseng’s arms, Vincent stood up and wrapped an arm around Reno’s waist, pulling him close and catching his lips in a possessive kiss with just the right amount of teeth and fangs to keep the redhead on his toes. When he finally released him, Vincent’s crimson eyes were the cloudy shade of orange that signalled Galian’s control of the shared body. Need and desire lent them a feral gleam that made Reno weak in the knees. On top of it, Vincent had allowed Galian some leeway as far as the transformation of his body went, letting him morph his arms and hands into a halfway point. 

From the elbows down, Galian’s arms were violet with just a hint of fur in them; the same violet hue spread through the rest of Galian’s body except for his face, which, except for the eyes, remained the same as the gunman’s. His hands were longer and the fingers wider than Vincent’s, ending in thicker, slightly longer nails, shiny black in colour. His feet had also become wider, the nails longer and black, as well. His hair remained mostly black but now had red and violet highlights streaked throughout it; it also was very unruly, spiking up at strange angles and holding them while retaining its natural softness. 

Reno reached a hand to tangle in Galian’s hair, the other one resting on his shoulder. The soft, nearly downy texture of the skin under his hand was counterpointed by the strong muscle beneath. He stood on tiptoes to reach Galian’s lips—Vincent was a good five inches taller than him, while Galian seemed to be a couple of inches taller than that—, enjoying the smokey taste that he’d perceived in that first kiss. He nearly squealed in surprise when Galian’s hands cupped his ass and hoisted him up, forcing him to wrap his legs and arms around the guardian’s body, deepening the kiss and making Galian’s impressive erection rub between his buttocks. That made Reno break the kiss in favour of mewling wantonly and letting go a rather inventive string of curses aimed to praise the male holding him. 

Reno’s outburst tore Rufus out of the post-sexual haze that still held him. Tseng was still holding him, caressing his hair and kissing his temple lovingly. When his eyes fell on Reno clinging to Galian, he groaned, feeling his cock stirring back to life. The Wutain’s chuckle had him resting his head on Tseng’s shoulder to get a look at his face.

“What’s so funny, Songbird?”

“You are, _Shiroi Ōji-sama._ I really thought you were down for the count but would you look at yourself? All ready to go again.”

“Can you blame me? That’s just so… _sexy_.”

Tseng hummed, nipping playfully at Rufus’s ear. “Yeah,” he whispered, his hand teasing the blond’s inner thigh, “it really is. But I think we should give Rude a hand—Reno left him all alone with Lena and Cissy. There’ll be plenty of time to play with Galian and Chaos later, Ru-san.”

The idea of getting some quality time with both Galian and Chaos only served to inflame him further. Rufus looked beyond Reno and Galian—not an easy feat, both because of the sinfully erotic display they were putting and because of Tseng’s distracting figure eights on his thighs—and caught sight of Rude hovering above Elena, kissing her belly while Cissnei sucked on her breasts. Elena squirmed beneath them, forgetting her cast at times and trying to use her left hand to touch either of them. Whenever that happened, Cissnei would patiently grab the blonde’s arms and set it to her side, where it couldn’t get in the way or further injured. 

The President grinned and kissed Tseng, sucking on his lower lip before getting up on still unsteady legs. Tseng chuckled and stood up, too, pulling Rufus past Galian and Reno—who were now on the floor, the redhead on his hands and knees while the Planet Protector licked and sucked on his buttocks—to join the rest of the Turks over by the armchairs. 

* * *

It ended up being a _very_ long, _very_ pleasurable night for everyone involved. By the time Vincent finished cleaning everyone up and carrying them back to his room, it was nearly five in the morning. As he kissed Rufus’s cheek—making him mumble sleepily about birds, confusing Vincent—, he silently thanked his boss for giving them Saturday off. They certainly needed the time to recover.

Standing at the foot of his bed, he took stock of the six people currently occupying it. Rude had been the only one to make it there on his own steam, although he was sound asleep less than a minute after settling down with Elena safely tucked next to him, carefully laid so her cast arm wouldn’t get injured. Reno had latched on to Elena’s back as soon as Vincent set him down, Rufus next to him, leaving them back to back. Tseng was next to Rude, arm and leg wrapped around the taller Turk. Vincent would end up spooning against Tseng as soon as he finished tidying up around the apartment.

Dressed in his robe, the gunman went around the apartment locking doors, rearranging the living room and carefully washing Tseng’s tableware and loading the rest of his dishes into the dishwasher. He also went about picking up their discarded clothes and throwing them in the hamper to be washed later that day, along with the towels they used to clean themselves after their love-in. He knew he had spare clothes for all the Turks in the guest room but he went in to check if anything would fit Rufus. He supposed something of Reno’s might do so he decided not to worry about it at that point. 

His studio was the last place he stopped by. There was no real reason for him to be there so he questioned himself as to why he’d ended up there now of all times. The discarded box of files and tapes was barely visible beneath his desk and he scowled. He was about to go into the room and move it to the closet when someone walked up to him from behind, taking his hand in theirs and resting their forehead against his shoulder.

“ _Kinnoki_ ,” Vincent whispered, not having to look around to know who was behind him.

“I’m not even going to ask how you knew it was me. I’d like to know, though, why you’re still up. Looking so serious, to boot.”

The gunman closed the door to his studio and turned around slowly, not letting the blond’s hand go. The younger man was wearing one of Vincent’s t-shirts, a size or two too big on his lithe frame, which made it long enough to cover his rear—not that Vincent wasn’t intimately acquainted with every inch of the President’s body by now. He smiled reassuringly, cupping Rufus’s face before kissing him softly. 

“I was just tidying up so Rude won’t obsess over it later today. As for the rest… Nothing worth worrying over just now. Let’s get some sleep. I’m really just about to keel over.”

Rufus decided not to pry, smiling instead and leaning into Vincent as they walked to his room. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, longest chapter yet—over 12K words D: And, again, not much happened, but I really wanted to bring Rufus into Vincent’s side so… yeah. 
> 
> A bit of an explanation about why there’s sex here and not in chapter 4, where it was just as warranted as here. Basically, I had planned to hold off on the sex until Vincent and Sephiroth end up together for a simple reason: I wanted the readers to see Vince’s body through Seph. But it seems like that’s going to take a while (I’m in no way rushing this) and, before I knew it, I was halfway through the sex scene here and I didn’t feel like cutting it out. I did cut it short, tho’—it was supposed to span the whole night. But then that would’ve made the chapter super long, which wasn’t such a bad thing. I do have to work on a ton of other stuff over the next few weeks, tho’, so I thought I’d treat you all to this so you’ll be less murderous when I take a bit over a month to bring up chapter 11 n_n;;;  
> I will, at some point, write the sex scene from chapter 4 and the entirety of the debauchery that started in this chapter. I’ll probably add it as a separate story or something, but that’s not going to happen in the near future. Just saying that it will eventually happen.
> 
> In other news, I really regretted my idea of giving nicknames to everyone. I must’ve spent about four hours looking for suitable pet names for everyone. My Japanese comes from Google translate and anime/manga, so I apologise for any gross mistakes in that regard. Also, it was difficult fitting Greek mythology into the FFVII-verse. Hopefully it doesn’t seem too forced.
> 
> Ack, enough from me. Thanks to everyone for the kudos, likes, favourites, follows, and comments. See you again in June!


	11. Back in Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day in the life of Vincent Valentine, Head of the Turks, after he returns to work following the Avalanche raid and the Fail-Safe debacle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back!  
> Like the summary says, this is basically what a day in the life of Vincent looks like. I’ve always thought that being Director of the Turks involves a lot of meetings and the likes, so I wanted to explore that. There’s some Sephiroth thrown in at the end, too, for good measure.  
> Thanks to everyone that’s following, leaving comments and kudos and the likes. If you have any questions about everything that’s happened so far, let me know!   

Sunday found the Turks and the President holding an informal meeting in the Turks’ floor. Vincent was put up to speed regarding the moles and Avalanche and he once again felt guilty about leaving his team alone for so long. Instead of wallowing in it, though, he made notes and plans for the week, aiming to have a solid plan for the energy summit by Friday. 

The biggest problem they would have to face was Avalanche’s threat of a simultaneous attack on Modeoheim and Midgar during the summit’s keynote address. The information had come from Ginga and the files Angeal recovered from Avalanche’s hideout and had been confirmed by Reno and Rude on Thursday. 

“We’re still severely understaffed,” Tseng said as they reviewed the guest list. “None of us can stay behind to keep an eye on HQ and Soldier has to send at least one First to Modeoheim. I don’t know whether Gast will clear Genesis for duty on time.”

“Even if he does, we’re taking half the seconds with us and about a quarter of the Thirds now. They’re strong, but I doubt three Soldiers First Class would be enough to fend off Avalanche without the proper backup,” Rude said.

“And after firing the entire Security Department, the rest of the Thirds will be acting as security for HQ. That doesn’t leave a lot of personnel to defend the city,” Elena added.

“I really don’t know what to tell you,” Rufus said. He was drumming his fingers on the desk, clearly displeased.

Vincent was looking at the information before him and making calculations. An idea occurred to him then, but it would need to be cleared with Lazard and Gast.

“What if Lazard promotes Cloud and Kunsel to First and we take at least one of them with us?”

“Sounds good. It would also help with what you told me a couple of weeks ago,” Cissnei said. “About Sephiroth representing a lot of the things Avalanche is supposedly against. I mean, there’s no Jenova in Zack but he still went through mako treatments.”

Vincent nodded and scribbled on his notepad. After a few minutes, he read the plan out loud.

“Tseng would of course shadow Rufus. Cissnei can look after Reeve, Elena would be with Gast, Reno with Aerith, Rude with Ifalna, and either Cloud or Kunsel would stay with Lazard. I’ll stay on the surveillance booth with either a Second or another First, depending on what we decide. Although, if we do take two Firsts with us, I would rather leave one of them on patrol. I’m sure the CEOs and politicians will have their own bodyguards, so the Seconds can be stationed strategically around the convention centre and the hotel.”

Rude took out a map of Modeoheim and drew Xs on the areas where the Seconds could be stationed, adding Vincent’s list to the side. Rufus took the map and looked at it intently, nodding slowly.

“It could work,” he said. “I know Lazard will immediately agree to your proposal to promote Cloud and Kunsel—Zack’s been pestering him about it for a couple of months now.”

“Won’t the other four be kinda miffed to be left behind, yo?”

“They might, but it’s for the best. Modeoheim is really small when compared to Midgar, making it much easier to monitor and control. A raid on Midgar without the proper defences could be catastrophic,” Vincent said.

“There’s also the fact that taking either Sephiroth or Zack with us creates a serious conflict of interests,” Rufus said. “That’s why we had decided to send Genesis, but then… You know.” After taking another look at the map, he nodded. Then, “Vincent, would you mind working with Lazard on a plan to protect Midgar while we’re gone? I know neither of you will be here but you’ve had to organise this kind of defence before and I’d feel better if Sephiroth and the others have a solid plan to work with.”

“We’ll work on it at the same time we figure out the details for the summit,” Vincent said with a nod.

“Good. Now, there’s another thing I want to talk to you about. I was going to wait until Wednesday’s meeting with all the Directors but I want all of you to know.”

Everyone sat up a little straighter, paying close attention to the President. Rufus reached into his briefcase and took out a folder, which he passed to Vincent. The gunman scanned the document inside and then looked at the blond with an eyebrow cocked in curiosity.

“Sir…?”

“The company will be going through a restructuring phase in the next few months. I was already planning to do it before this whole business with the moles blew up in our faces. Now that it did, it’s forcing me to act sooner than I had planned but…” He trailed off and shrugged.

“Basically, I’m breaking the cover my father came up with when he created the Investigation Division of the General Affairs Department. I’m also giving Vincent Heidegger’s position and some of his responsibilities. I already signed the Police Department over to Lazard temporarily, but it still leaves Shinra’s security headless. I want you in charge of that, Vincent. From now on, the Turks will be Shinra Company’s Internal Security Department. No more hiding in the shadows, shouldering all the responsibility with none of the acknowledgement. Well,” he added, smiling wryly, “for the most part. There are still aspects of your job best left in anonymity.”

“Does this mean we get to hire more people, then?” Rude asked.

Rufus nodded. “You’ll be in charge of restaffing the Internal Security Department and I’m authorising Vincent to hire as many new Turk recruits as he deems necessary. Most of it will have to wait until after the summit, though.”

Vincent was still looking at the executive order Rufus had drawn up. He had already signed it and all that was missing to make it official was the gunman’s signature. He thought back to that meeting with Veld and the others where he had agreed to take over the Turks. It seemed like a lifetime ago, and he felt the same trepidation now that he did back then. It was a huge responsibility and a part of him didn’t think he was up to the challenge.

“Vincent?” Rufus asked. “Is everything all right?”

 ** _C’mon_** , Chaos cajoled, **_this is a good thing. It means the Little Prince trusts you even after everything that’s been going on._**

A small smile tugged at Vincent’s lips and he nodded slowly. 

“Yes. Sorry, I was just thinking. Thank you, sir, for trusting me with this. I’ll do my best not to let you down.”

“I don’t think you could, Vincent. Even if you tried.”

The gunman signed the order and returned the folder to Rufus, deciding not to comment on that. 

“I suppose that, other than the eventual increase in staff, nothing else is changing?” 

“Well, since you’re now an independent department, all your positions have been bumped up a level, so there’s a salary increase. Other than that, it’s your call.”

“Tseng’s still with us, then?”

The Wutain arched an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you going to fight over me now?”

Rufus smirked. “Like I would stand a chance. But yeah, he’s still a Turk. I mean, I couldn’t take him away from you even if I wanted to try, which I really don’t. And even if I somehow could, he’d still be part of the Internal Security Department, and that’s your area now.”

“So,” Reno drawled, “Vincent owns our asses in more ways than one, huh?”

Everyone laughed at that and the meeting was adjourned.

* * *

Vincent’s first meeting on Monday was with Lazard. He pitched his plan for the energy summit to him and, just like Rufus predicted, the Director of Soldier was on board with the idea of promoting Cloud and Kunsel, particularly since the doctors had assured them that Kunsel would be out of the hospital by the end of the week and he would be cleared for active duty no later than the following Wednesday. Vincent had an appointment with Cid Highwind at half past nine so he and Lazard agreed to meet again the following day to work on the details for the energy summit’s security as well as the plan Rufus wanted for Midgar.

Meetings with the Captain were always entertaining for Vincent. Each Director had their own quirks, obviously, but Highwind’s were the most amusing of all, at least for the gunman. It wasn’t just the thick Southern accent that he hadn’t been able to kick after nearly fifteen years in Midgar or his rather colourful language, but his absolute disinterest in politics and brash honesty that made Cid Highwind a much welcomed breath of fresh air amidst all the underhanded schemes the company was known for. Although, Vincent mused, that was likely to come to an end now that Heidegger and Scarlet were gone and Rufus was trying to turn Shinra into its own entity rather than a parasite of Midgar’s.

As Shera, the Captain’s assistant, ushered him into his office, Vincent couldn’t help a smirk from curling his lips as he heard the brash blond yelling inventive expletives into the phone. Apparently someone had the gall to mess about with Highwind’s eponymous airship, something everyone in the company knew better than to even think about. Well, _almost_ everyone.

“Do what I fuckin’ tell ya t’do an’ don’t call back ’till it’s done the way I told ya t’do it, ya hear?! That’s what yer paid t’do, not think, ya fuckin’ numbskull!” 

He slammed the phone back into the receiver with a string of curses before realising Vincent was standing halfway between the door and his desk. 

“Well, what’re ya doing all the way over there, Val? C’mere an’ have a seat.”

That was another thing. Cid seemed absolutely incapable of calling him by either his full name or last name; ‘Val’ was the most recent shorthand for his name that the pilot had come up with. Vincent had long since given up on trying to convince him to be a bit more formal, a practice everyone else, including Rufus, had taken up at one point or another.

“Everything all right, Captain?” Vincent asked as he sat down and set his briefcase on the chair next to him.

Lighting a cigarette (another concession Rufus had had to make in order to convince Cid to take over after firing Palmer), the pilot waved in dismissal. “Buncha smart-assed techs trying’ t’pull off unauthorised renovations on the Highwind. I jes can’t get it over their thick skulls that it doesn’t need any more tinkerin’ than the one I do innit.”

He knew Cid was adamant that his ship’s controls remained as old fashioned as possible, a choice Reno strongly approved of, automatically and forever adding him to the blond’s list of ‘BAMFs’. Knowing that allowing the Captain to get into a rant about the Highwind would make him late for his following appointment, Vincent simply nodded and offered no further commentary on the topic.

“I have the requirements list for transportation to and from Modeoheim for the energy summit,” Vincent said as he passed a folder to Cid. “I will email it to you tomorrow at the latest, but I wanted to make sure that all the specifications are met. Particularly now that we will be flying more Soldier operatives than originally planned.”

As part of Rufus’s plan to restructure Shinra, he had appointed Cid as Chief of Transportation in addition to his job as Head of the Space Program, so all requests for any and all kind of company issued vehicles had to go through him. 

“I don’t see why not,” Cid said, exhaling a long puff of smoke. “I’ll make sure the Gelnikas are ready and I’ll send your choppers in for maintenance three days before y’all are scheduled to leave.”

Vincent blinked. “I’m sorry… ‘our’ choppers?”

The Captain nodded. “Yah. Been thinkin’ ‘bout it since Rufus dumped Transportation on my lap an’ I went through the list of common requests. You guys ask for a chopper at least twice a week, so it made sense to assign ya the two Reno an’ Cissnei are more familiar with. I wanted t’add a decal or somethin’ with the Turks’ logo or somethin’ but then Rufus told me ya don’t have one and even if ya did it wouldn’t be such a good idea.”

 The Turk breathed a laugh at that. “We do take pride in our anonymity, Captain. Thank you, though.”

“Not a problem. Y’all’re gonna be leavin’ a few days before the summit actually starts, ‘ight?”

“Yes. We need to double-check the area before everyone arrives.”

“Gotta tell ya, at first I was kinda pissed I wouldn’t get t’go, but now I’m kinda glad. I mean, I know we’re under threat, too, but at least it’s home turf an’ we don’t hafta worry ‘bout a bunch of big shots, jes ourselves. Either way, tho’, all this Avalanche business is real shitty, Val.”

“Lazard and I will leave a security plan in place to be enforced by Sephiroth and the other Firsts. We are aware that a lot of the personnel staying behind doesn’t have combat experience, so Zack and Cloud will be offering a basic course on self-defence over the next few days, in case you’re interested in a refresher, Captain.”

“Nah, I’ll be fine. I still go to the gym regular like an’ I still got my spear from when I was in t’army as a dragoon. If shit hits the fan, ‘m all set. Thanks for the concern, tho’.”

A small beep from his phone told Vincent it was time to wrap up with Cid and go visit Kunsel at the med wing. He stood up and shook Cid’s hand, promising to send the electronic version of the request and to have Reno stop by sometime during the day to check the helicopters.

* * *

Zack and Aerith were visiting with Kunsel when Vincent knocked on the young Soldier’s hospital door. He had a small bento box with him that Tseng had prepared the night before; Kunsel had been complaining about the med wing’s food again and the Wutain took pity on the young man and made some for him. Since he’d be busy accompanying Rufus on meetings and Vincent had planned to visit Kunsel anyway, it was decided that the gunman would deliver the food.

“Good morning, everyone. I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Kunsel didn’t have a chance to respond. As soon as he saw him at the door, Zack beamed at Vincent and rushed towards him, pulling him in a bear hug to put all other hugs to shame. Vincent tensed up, not used to such effusive displays of affection from anyone other than the Turks, but made an effort to relax as to not make Zack feel awkward. Kunsel was grinning and Aerith just shook her head, a fond smile on her lips.

“Good morning, Director,” Kunsel said, laughter clear in his voice. “You’re not interrupting anything. You, Zack, might be interfering with Director Valentine’s breathing, though.”

Zack laughed and ended the hug but kept his hands on Vincent’s shoulders. “Sorry, Director. It’s just Lazard called me earlier and gave me the good news about Cloud and Kunsel. Thank you very much, sir.”

Vincent smiled and nodded, patting Zack’s shoulder. “No need to thank me. They deserve it and, if I’m entirely honest, we’re severely understaffed at the moment so we really need them.” 

“I know. But, well, silver linings and stuff, right?” Zack said.

“It’s a good outlook to have,” Vincent agreed. “Does Cloud already know?”

Zack shook his head. “He’s on assignment at Fort Condor. I’ll tell him when he gets back.”

Aerith was at their side now and she kissed Vincent’s cheek as she hugged him briefly. “Morning, Mr. Valentine. I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”

“Thank you, Ms. Gainsborough.” He then went to Kunsel’s bed and gave him the bento box. “Tseng’s takoyaki and rice cakes, with the team’s thanks and well-wishes. Lazard told me you should be out of the med wing soon and back on duty by next week.”

Kunsel nodded. “Yeah, thank Shiva. And thank Tseng for this—the food here is nothing to write home about, let me tell you.”

Vincent smirked. “I heard a similar complaint from Elena. I’m sure she’ll be writing a rather strong letter of complaint to the kitchens.”

“If she does, I’ll co-sign it.”

“I’ll be sure to let her know. Also, well, my visit isn’t purely social.” He opened his briefcase and took out a large binder and a small tablet that he handed to Kunsel, along with a secure phone and two battery chargers. “Tseng said you volunteered to work on the analysis of the Avalanche data while you were recovering. I cleared it with Lazard earlier today so, if you’re still feeling up to it, we’d like you to help us out. Elena can’t be here today but you can make a video call if you need her help. Otherwise, she’ll be here early tomorrow.”

Kunsel’s brown eyes lit up as soon as he saw the binder. “Yes, sir! Thank you so much!”

Zack shook his head. “I don’t get it, man. I’ve never seen anyone so happy to receive paperwork while at the hospital. Or, well, _ever_.”

“Hey, you have your squats and your big ass sword, I have my data. I’m going out of my mind here.”

“I know, but you seem more excited about that than about the promotion, man.”

Realising he hadn’t thanked the Director, Kunsel blushed and shook his hand. “I’m sorry, sir. I real am very happy about the promotion. Thank you.”

Vincent patted the young man’s shoulder, smiling. “Don’t worry. I know how hospitals can alter one’s priorities.”

Another beep from his phone reminded him not to be late to his appointment with Gast.

“Thank you very much for your help, Kunsel,” Vincent said. “I have several appointments I must attend to during the week but feel free to call Cissnei or send her an e-mail if you find anything important. She’s sort of our Avalanche hub at the moment.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll get right on it.”

Vincent smiled and said his goodbyes. He was halfway to the elevator bank when Aerith’s voice made him stop.

“Mr. Valentine, are you terribly busy right now?”

Checking his watch, Vincent nodded. “I’m afraid so. I actually have an appointment with your father in ten minutes. He will not be pleased if I’m late.”

“Oh, okay,” she said. She pouted a little while she balanced on the balls of her feet. “Could I see you at lunch time, then? I don’t know if Zack told you but I’d like to talk to you.”

The gunman smiled and nodded. “He did tell me, while we were at Nibelheim. I told him I’d be happy to speak with you but I suppose he must have forgotten amidst everything that happened afterwards.”

Aerith giggled. “Probably. He’s a bit of a scatter brain like that.”

Vincent smiled, shrugging minutely. “Lunch would be fine. I have no other appointments after talking to your father so I’ll call you when I’m free, if that’s all right.”

“Sounds great. Thank you, Mr. Valentine.”

“No problem.”

* * *

Vincent arrived to Gast’s office just as Genesis and Angeal were leaving. The Commanders looked happy and relieved, as well as a little surprised to see the Head Turk. 

“Director Valentine,” Genesis said. “We were about to call you to schedule a quick appointment.”

The gunman’s head tilted slightly to the side and he blinked curiously. “Is everything all right, Commander Rhapsodos?”

“Yes, quite.” The Soldier First could hardly contain his smile. “I just got the preliminary results of my blood panel and it seems that I’ll make a full recovery in the next two weeks.”

Vincent smiled, relief washing over him. “That’s very good to hear, Genesis.”

“We wanted to thank you,” Angeal said. “If you hadn’t gone back to Nibelheim—”

The dark-haired man shook his head. “No need to thank me, Angeal. Finding the compounds was a coincidence.”

“Coincidence or not, I am in your debt,” Genesis pressed. “I haven’t found an appropriate way to thank you yet but I assure you that I will.”

“Both of us will,” Angeal amended.

The gunman felt himself blush slightly but smiled, all the same. “If you insist. I’m just glad your recovery is coming along so well, Genesis.”

“Thank you. We know you have an appointment with the Professor so we’ll leave you to it,” Genesis said.

Both Firsts said their goodbyes and left Vincent feeling slightly overwhelmed in the reception area.

 _The Planet Bane is almost entirely dormant inside the Proud One. I cannot feel it within the Honourable One, either_ , Galian said.

Vincent sighed inwardly as he went up to Toru’s desk. _Two out of three is not bad at all._

 ** _Let’s hope we can hit the trifecta_** , Chaos added.

_Hn._

“Good morning, Director Valentine. The Professor said you could go right in as soon as you arrived,” Toru said.

Vincent thanked him and went directly to Gast’s office, bracing for the reprimand he was sure he’d be getting. 

Instead, he found Gast almost gleeful as he finished up what Vincent supposed was the report on Genesis’s progress.

“Good morning, Professor.”

Gast looked up from his clipboard and smiled at the gunman. “Good morning, Vincent. It’s been a while.”

The Head Turk half smiled and shrugged before sitting down. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you last week after I went through the files. I was…”

Gast shook his head, finished a note on the clipboard, and set it aside. “It’s understandable. I should have anticipated something of the sort would happen, given the nature of the information in the files. I shouldn’t have been so short with the Turks last week, either.”

“We all get defensive when it comes to Jenova. Speaking of which, I ran into Genesis and Angeal on the way in. Genesis is looking much better and he said he should be fully recovered soon.”

“Yes, he will be just fine. The compound you found in Nibelheim is working perfectly with no side effects.”

Vincent nodded and sighed. He had a mental list of the things he needed to discuss with the Professor but he didn’t know where to start. 

**_I think the obvious choice is to talk about the files._ **

“There were a few things from the Fail-Safe project that I wanted to talk to you about,” Gast said, as if reading Vincent’s mind.

Thankful that the Professor took the initiative, Vincent nodded. “Me, too. Starting with the experiments my father conducted on me. Do you know if there’s any way that Hojo incorporated that into the Jenova Project to enhance Soldier’s healing abilities?”

Gast nodded, a grim expression taking over his features. “I’m afraid he did.”

Vincent inhaled deeply and let out a shaky breath, bringing a hand to his forehead. 

“That’s how he did it, then. That’s how he made sure that Fail-Safe would work no matter what.”

“Yes. On the upside, he gave up on the pheromones idea for some reason. Instead, he focused on lowering Jenova’s awareness of Chaos to allow you to come close without Sephiroth suspecting anything. Either he grossly miscalculated everything, though, or there were factors he didn’t take into account because Jenova’s cells in Sephiroth react randomly to both Chaos and Galian.”

The gunman blinked, slowly lowering his hand and looking intently at the scientist. “What do you mean, randomly?”

“As far as Sephiroth can tell, sometimes Jenova reacts like we’ve seen her do in laboratory settings. Other times, however, Galian’s presence sets her on edge while Chaos calms her down. As far as I can tell, it only happens to Sephiroth’s cells—what Hojo called S Cells.”

“Well… What does that mean for…?” He trailed off, not knowing how to put it. “Does that help in any way?”

“It will help me come up with a compound to completely mute or deactivate Jenova in Sephiroth without harming him. As far as your end of Fail-Safe goes, I haven’t finished the analysis on Galian’s samples but I think I can recalibrate the hormonal imbalance that was causing his reaction to Sephiroth. After that, all we need to do is fix the protomateria and you should all be fine.”

**_That sounds easy enough._ **

_A bit too easy…_

“How long would the hormonal thing take?”

“I won’t really know until I find the right dosage. In the meantime, you can have these.”

He opened one of his desk drawers and produced a small leather bag that he handed to Vincent. The gunman opened it and found ten syringes filled with a murky green liquid.

“Is this the sedative he made based on the protomateria?”

Gast nodded. “Yes. You can only use it when the protomateria is acting up, I’m afraid. Otherwise, it won’t work.” He paused, regarding Vincent carefully, before asking, “ _Will_ you know when the protomateria is acting up? As far as I understand it, last time it happened while you weren’t quite yourself.”

“Galian and Chaos will be able to spot it,” Vincent said.

“Good. Now, while these are good to have, you’ll still need to recharge the protomateria at the Crystal Cave to completely stabilise it.”

“That can wait, can’t it?”

The Professor nodded but he didn’t seem pleased. “Yes, but I would recommend that you do it as soon as possible. The shots are by no means a permanent solution, whatever Hojo might have theorised.”

“I know. It’s just that I don’t think I’ll have the time to take care of it in the next few months. Not with the summit and the President’s plan to restructure the company.”

“I understand. But remember that stress makes it worse for you, Vincent.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” He closed the bag and stored it in his briefcase. “There’s something else I wanted to discuss. It’s about the siblings Hojo and Hollander used for their experiment.”

“What about them?”

“When you’re done going through whatever remains Hojo kept from them, would you release them to me? I want to give them a proper burial.”

Gast seemed surprised by the request but he nodded, all the same. “Of course. The only thing I want to keep is the compound we’re administering to Genesis, just in case there are unforeseen long-term side effects.”

“I understand.”

“There’s one more thing,” Gast said. “It’s about your father’s research again.”

Vincent raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“First off, what made you think Hojo had used it on Soldier?”

A small, sort of pleased smile tugged at the gunman’s lips. “It was the Turks’ idea, mainly. I was telling them about Fail-Safe and I mentioned that the only scientific reason for my concern for Sephiroth while we were both at the labs when he was just a baby would be a genetic relation of sorts. It never came up on any tests, though, so that couldn’t be it. But then Tseng and the others thought that maybe Hojo had done something with my father’s research to enhance Soldier’s healing abilities. It made sense when taking into account that Zack was promoted to First after you arrived and his healing factor is not as strong as on the other three.”

Gast looked surprised. “Are you telling me it took them a few minutes to figure out something we missed entirely for years?”

Vincent shrugged. “Thinking outside the box is a requirement to join the Turks. Besides, precisely because they don’t have a comprehensive knowledge of genetics and bioengineering and gods know what else they are able to throw out ideas that are unconstrained by scientific rules.” He paused for a moment before asking, “How did you figure it out?”

“After Sephiroth told me about Jenova’s erratic behaviour I rechecked all samples available, including Zack’s. Some of Hojo’s old samples that you brought back from Nibelheim helped out. As far as I can tell, Hojo started experimenting with your enhanced DNA as soon as he got a hold of your father’s research. Either he didn’t record any of it or the files are lost because I couldn’t find any journals detailing what he did. But an in-depth analysis of Sephiroth, Angeal, and Genesis’s samples show distinct connections to your DNA that are not present on Zack or anyone who joined the program after the first three. Hojo must have mixed your DNA with Jenova’s; it’s the only explanation.

“The final confirmation, so to speak, came when I analysed the compound Hojo put together to cure Genesis’s degradation. It’s largely based on Loz’s DNA but he reinforced it with yours. I think that’s what’s making it work so fast.”

“I see…” Vincent sighed, still struggling with the knowledge that his link to Sephiroth and the other two was so deep yet subtle. “Do they know?”

Gast shook his head. “I wanted to talk to you about it first. If you don’t want them to know then they never have to find out.”

Vincent thought about it for a moment before shrugging. “I suppose it’s all right, as long as you don’t mention my father’s research. It’s bad enough that they know about Kadaj and the others; I don’t want to add to that.”

Gast nodded and the gunman took a deep breath.

“Anyway, what did you want to ask about? Regarding my father’s research, I mean.”

“I want to know if you would let me add your DNA to the enhancements we’ll give the Soldiers First from now on. Including Zack’s next booster shot.”

The gunman blinked slowly, trying to process the information and fighting his impulse to say _no_ right away. He understood why Gast would want to do something like that, and he appreciated that he was asking his permission, but that didn’t clear his unease about the whole matter.

“Why? Isn’t the formula you came up with enough?”

“It’s a good strength and stamina enhancer, yes, but it does little for their immune system and healing and recovery rate. What sets Sephiroth and the others apart is the fact that they can recover from serious wounds in a few hours. While that’s not exactly pressing for the Seconds and Thirds, it is a great advantage for the Firsts. I know you and Lazard approved to promote Cloud and Kunsel, which gives us only six Soldiers First Class. This situation with Genesis’s degradation has made it very clear just how debilitating it is to lose even one First to downtime, let alone two or more. If all six of them are in optimal conditions virtually at all times, that would make everyone’s job a lot easier.”

Vincent shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. 

“I understand that, but… The way my father came upon the enhancement, it… It makes my skin crawl, Gast. I thought it was bad enough that he’d done it to me, and then I find out it’s been passed to Sephiroth, Angeal, and Genesis. Not only that, it was done—to an extent—as part of this whole Fail-Safe nightmare. I know that with Jenova out of the picture in the case of Zack and the others there’s no chance that I’ll end up targeting them somehow, but…”

He sighed, frustrated that he couldn’t get his point across clearly. Before he could try to explain himself, he paused for a moment, listening to Galian and Chaos. Gast looked a bit uneasy when the gunman’s eyes turned orange but he said nothing. 

When Vincent’s eyes finally returned to their natural red, he was blushing slightly.

“Let me ask you something. How—? I mean, Hojo used my DNA because it was already there and replicating the experiment would be nearly impossible. You’re basically going to do the same, right?” Vincent waited until Gast nodded before continuing. “How exactly does it link me to the others?”

“Are you talking about a biological relationship?”

“I—Yes. How much of my DNA do they share?”

“Not enough that a paternity test—or any sort of genetic match test, for that matter—would come back positive. Like you said, we’ve ran tests on all of you numerous times and nothing ever came up. Hojo just took the sequences that alter your immune system and passed it on to the others. There are distinct markers in it that allow us to trace it back to you, but only through very specific tests.”

Vincent drummed his fingers on the chair’s armrest, pondering. As far as he understood it, no one with his altered DNA was really his family and it was only thanks to Chaos’s connection to the Lifestream that he felt strongly attached to them. Sephiroth more than the others, for some reason, but that could be attributed to his guilt issues. 

**_There’s really no downside for you, Vincent, and you’ll help keep the kids safer while they’re out on assignment._ **

_You already consider Cloud almost like a son, and you fought very hard to free Kunsel from Avalanche—as hard as you fought for Elena. Agreeing would only make official your commitment to their safety._

“All right. As long as you explain to them what it is you’re giving them and what it means in terms of my connection to them.”

“Your connection isn’t—”

“Chaos can feel Sephiroth, Angeal, and Genesis _all the time_. Why did you think I went to Nibelheim instead of letting you experiment on them and myself? It wasn’t just because of what my father called my ‘uncompromising disposition regarding ethics’ or because I’m sick and tired of being poked and prodded. It was because the link you think is so insignificant drives me to protect them. If you do the same to Zack, Cloud, Kunsel, and whoever comes after them, I will feel the same way about them all. I’ll fight for their well-being with everything I’ve got, even if it means going against you and the entire company.”

Gast seemed insulted by the last comment, but he really couldn’t be too angry at Vincent. Not when he knew the man’s background and understood where he was coming from, at least up to a point. 

“Very well. I’ll explain the procedure and its repercussions to them and let them decide if they want to go through it. If they have any questions, though, I’m referring them to you.”

Vincent nodded. “When are you going through with it?”

“Zack’s due for his booster shot next week. Kunsel will be cleared for duty around the same time, so I’m planning to do it a week from Friday. It will give me time to make sure all three of them will be in Midgar on the same day so I can explain everything to them. It will also give us the weekend to monitor any possible side effects, although I really don’t anticipate any.”

The Director checked his PDA and noticed that he was mostly free that day.

“I don’t have any pressing appointments for that date. I can be here to talk to them, if you prefer.”

“I think that would be a good idea, yes.”

To cut some of the tension, Gast asked about Galian and Chaos.

“They’re fine. Chaos opened a communication channel with Galian so we can talk to him whenever we need/want, which has turned out to be quite often. I’m sure you’ve noticed I haven’t reacted negatively to Sephiroth’s name through the conversation; it’s been that way since Friday. Whatever your wife did is holding just fine.”

“I see. She’ll be glad to hear so. Now, I don’t mean to pry or push but, have you talked to Sephiroth yet?”

The gunman shook his head slowly. “Not yet. I plan to call him to schedule an appointment for tomorrow, though. Rufus wants Lazard and I to come up with a defence plan for Midgar because of Avalanche’s threat and we’ll have to meet with the Firsts, since they’ll be the ones to enforce it. I want to make sure we can be in the same room without something terrible happening before we start attending meetings together.”

The Professor nodded. “That’s good. He’s been wanting to meet with you since Friday but Ifalna and Aerith asked him to give you time. I think it’s a good idea for you to take the first step. It will probably ease his mind.”

“The Turks told me something of the sort. I think they ran into Aerith on Friday and she mentioned it to them. By the way, I promised I would call her after my meeting with you. She’s been wanting to talk to me for some time now, it seems.”

“I see. I think I have enough of Galian’s samples to find out what kind of hormone replacement therapy he’ll need, so I won’t ask you for any at this point. If I need anything, I’ll call you.”

“Fair enough. You’ll let me know about the siblings’ remains, yes?”

“Of course.”

Vincent stood up and, after being reminded to take care of himself, left Gast’s office. 

He was waiting for the elevator to arrive when his phone rang. He still hadn’t assigned ring tones to his frequent contacts so he had to check the caller ID, which told him it was Cloud calling.

“Good afternoon, Cloud.”

_“Vincent! It’s so good to hear you! You sound a lot better than the last time I saw you.”_

“I feel a lot better, thank you. Zack told me you were on assignment at Fort Condor. Are you back already?”

_“On my way, really. I called Zack to check in and he told me that Kunsel and I will be promoted to First Class at your recommendation. I’m calling to thank you—it really means a lot to me, Vincent.”_

The gunman smiled as he stepped into the elevator that would take him to the Turks’ floor. 

“Like I told Zack, you really deserve it, Cloud. Both you and Kunsel have been a great help with Avalanche and anything related to Nibelheim. Even if Lazard and I are acting now because we’re understaffed, I was still planning on writing a recommendation soon.”

_“All the same, thank you very much. Tifa will be thrilled, too. I was thinking about having a small dinner to celebrate and thank you properly once we have some free time.”_

“That’s a good idea. I just talked to Gast and he thinks he can get everything ready to administer your enhancements by the end of next week. The summit is two weeks later, though, so it might have to wait until we come back.”

_“Great! I’ll let Tifa know as soon as I get back and we’ll let you know when we decide on a date.”_

“Sounds good.”

_“Well, you must be busy and we’re about to enter one of those dead zones so I’ll talk to you later. Again, thank you very much, Vincent.”_

“You’re welcome, Cloud. Take care, now.”

_“Will do. Bye!”_

The call ended and Vincent leaned against the elevator’s wall while the last few floors went by. It struck him, then, how close the summit was. Three more weeks and nearly a year of planning would come to fruition. He and the Turks would be leaving to Modeoheim a week earlier to install all the extra security measures they would need, including a command centre. Tseng would be staying behind with Rufus, though, as the President wasn’t scheduled to arrive until the day before the opening ceremony. 

That meant Vincent and Lazard had to finalise all the details by Friday so they could review them with the Firsts and leave everything ready by Wednesday. That would give him Thursday for last minute adjustments and, hopefully, he’d get to talk to Zack, Cloud, and Kunsel on Friday before they underwent their enhancements. He would have to pack on Saturday and go through the last minute checklist to rest up on Sunday and get up blasphemously early on Monday to oversee the transportation of Soldier to Modeoheim. Once there, they would probably start working right away. Everything would have to be set up by Thursday afternoon when Rufus was scheduled to arrive for the final inspection before the summit’s opening ceremony on Friday. 

Trying not to think of all the things that could go wrong between then and the summit’s end, Vincent went into his office and left his briefcase on his desk. He took half the protomateria shots and placed them on the small safe he kept behind the group picture the Turks had taken during his last birthday party; he would take the rest to his apartment at the end of the day. 

As he set the picture back, he took a moment to look at it fondly. The Turks were all there, including Veld, and they all looked happy and relaxed, even Vincent. 

While reading Fail-Safe, it hadn’t escaped him that the incident with the siblings took place during his birthday. Almost at once he decided never to celebrate his birthday again, not when such a horrible thing had happened during it. He hadn’t brought it up to the others because he was certain they would try to talk him out of it, insisting on doing something big to take his mind off the horrors of Nibelheim. In the end, though, he realised it didn’t really matter. His birthday coincided with the summit and there would be no time to celebrate it on the actual date. If Reno had something planned, it would certainly take place afterwards, something Vincent thought he could deal with.

After checking his inbox and replying to a couple of urgent messages, Vincent checked the time. It was barely one in the afternoon, which meant he still had a little time before calling Aerith to see about lunch. He decided to take that time to check up on whoever was at the office. 

He found Cissnei and Rude in the lounge area, both of them cleaning their service guns. While neither of them were big fans of firearms, all Turks were required to carry a side-arm. Rude preferred the small Quicksilver, as it was easier to conceal and maintain, while Cissnei chose a bulkier yet dependable Glock. 

“Hey, Boss,” Rude greeted Vincent. “All done with your meetings?”

“Sort of. I ran into Aerith earlier and I promised her we would have lunch together. It’s a bit early, so I thought I’d check on everyone before calling her.”

“Tseng’s with Rufus at a meeting with Reeve, I think,” Cissnei said. “Elena is still stuck with IT trying to secure all communications so we don’t have to keep two phones anymore, and Reno is doing an inspection of the helicopters Captain Highwind assigned to us.”

“I see,” Vincent said, sitting between them on the couch. “All calm on your end, then?”

Rude nodded. “We’re waiting for Reno to come back to go to lunch.”

“After that, we’ll do some inventory. We really don’t have much to do until tomorrow.”

“Fair enough. By the way, I gave Kunsel part of the Avalanche files this morning and told him to contact you if he finds anything important.”

Cissnei nodded. “All right.” She stopped what she was doing to give her boss an appraising look. “How are you holding up?”

The dark-haired man smiled and shrugged. “I’m fine. I deliberately kept my afternoon free in case I got too tired but so far, so good. I did have an interesting chat with Gast not too long ago, though.”

“What about?” Rude asked.

“About that theory you guys came up with regarding Soldier and my DNA. Turns out you were right: Hojo did use it to enhance Sephiroth and the other two. Now Gast wants to use it on Zack, Cloud, and Kunsel. And, well, anyone else who might get promoted to First in the future.”

Rude and Cissnei’s movements halted for a second as they exchanged a look. Then both of them resumed their cleaning while Rude asked what both Turks wanted to know.

“Are you all right with that, Vincent?” 

Vincent didn’t miss the concern on his subordinates’ eyes and smiled to try to reassure them. 

“I had some qualms about it but Chaos and Galian made some good points. I agreed under the condition that Gast tells them what it is they’re receiving. If everything goes well, I’ll be there to explain further and make sure they know what they’re getting into.”

“Which is?” Cissnei asked while she started to put her gun back together.

“That Chaos will always be able to know where they are and how they’re doing and that I’ll always look out for them, even if it means going against Gast.”

Rude and Cissnei smirked, shaking their heads slowly.

“I bet he didn’t like that, Boss.”

“No, but he knew better than to disagree.”

“As long as you’re sure this is the right thing to do, Vincent.”

“It is,” Vincent said, fully convinced for the first time. Checking his watch, he said, “I’ll leave you to it, then. I have to call Aerith.”

“All right,” Cissnei said. “Oh, before I forget. We might stop by your apartment later tonight. Reno wants to plan your birthday party.”

A wry smiled curved Vincent’s lips. “Of course he does. I’ll text you when I get home.”

Their boss’s lack of enthusiasm wasn’t lost on either of them, but neither Rude nor Cissnei commented on it. There would be time for that later that night. 

* * *

Vincent agreed to go with Aerith to a bistro on Sector Two that specialised in Costan food. They took one of the tables out front and ordered gazpacho and paella. The young Cetra asked the gunman about his health and about Galian and Chaos and, even though he felt slightly awkward and uncomfortable to be quizzed like so by someone he barely knew, he answered every question patiently. However, he knew there was something else the young woman wanted to discuss—or rather, someone. All the same, he let her dance around the subject as to not appear unkind. 

Eventually, Aerith set her plates aside and rested her head on her palms, giving the Director a soft smile. 

“So, Vincent. My brother is not the most patient man on the Planet and I’m running out of arguments to keep him from ambushing you at work. He’s constantly underfoot at home because he’s incapable of being still and he’s been avoiding headquarters after hours to give you space. He’s driving mom crazy and dad’s given very serious consideration to the idea of slipping a tranquilliser into his tea. As for me, I find it all endearing but I already have a restless boyfriend to deal with—adding a restless brother to it might prove unhealthy. 

“What I’m trying to say is, are you planning to put my brother out of his misery any time soon?”

By his recollection, this was the first time Aerith addressed him by his first name. The realisation wasn’t as shocking as it was when Sephiroth first did the same but he couldn’t help but draw the parallel. A small smile found its way to his lips but died quickly with Aerith’s last question. 

_‘Why don’t you just kill him? Stop toying with the poor child and put him out of his misery, Vincent. Do for him what I could not do for you. Or is this your way of getting back at me?’_

Lucrecia, taunting him and mocking him in the nightmares that followed his discovery of Fail-Safe. That the young woman across from him chose the same words was a coincidence—couldn’t be anything else, really—, but it cut right through him all the same. 

Warm fingers gingerly brushing against his hand stopped him from falling into a vortex of despair. 

“Vincent? Was it something I said?”

The gunman shook his head and took a sip of lemonade to wet his lips and throat. 

“It’s… It’s nothing.”

Aerith tilted her head to the side and gave him a disbelieving look. “You’re pale, Vincent, and your eyes did a weird flickering thing just now. I’d like you to tell me what caused it, so I can avoid upsetting you like that.”

Vincent flinched. Chaos and Galian hadn’t spoken since they left headquarters so there was no reason for his eyes to flicker like that. It could be an after-effect of whatever happened to the protomateria or it could be that they were as disturbed by Aerith’s choice of words as he was and it manifested physically without his acknowledgement. He didn’t want to ask them now, though, to avoid more questions from the young woman. From what others had told him about her, she was as stubborn as her mother and even more relentless than her father in her pursuit of the truth. He was too tired and busy to allow himself to fall within her crosshairs more than could be avoided. 

“I’ve had nightmares,” he said, playing with the condensate on his lemonade glass. “About… your brother and others. What you said about ‘putting him out of his misery’… it reminded me of those nightmares.”

Brown eyebrows shot up in surprise and lithe hands wrapped around his in a reassuring squeeze. 

“I am so sorry, Vincent. I was only trying to keep the mood light.”

Vincent nodded slowly. “I know. It was just an unfortunate coincidence.”

Aerith searched his eyes for a moment and, apparently finding something she approved of, nodded and sat back on her chair. 

“The question remains, though. You _will_ talk to him, won’t you?”

“Yes. I will call him this evening.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” 

The young Cetra was smiling but soon her expression turned serious. She pursed her lips and appeared to brace herself before speaking again. 

“Vincent… Would you please be patient with my brother? I don’t want to meddle but I think you should know that he’s very confused about everything that’s been happening. Right now his focus is on talking to you and figuring where you both stand but, beyond that… I don’t think he’s given it much thought.”

Red eyes blinked rapidly a few times before Vincent broke into a small smile and shrugged minutely. 

“I understand. I certainly can’t claim to fully grasp the meaning and reach the events of the last couple of weeks might have, so I intend to tread lightly.” He hesitated for a moment before saying, “Thank you, Aerith.”

It was the young woman’s turn to blink, her head once more tilted to the side. “For what?”

Vincent felt himself blush as he tried to explain himself. “It might sound strange, but… I’m really grateful your family adopted Sephiroth and has taken such good care of him. One of the reasons I agreed to come back to Midgar was to see what kind of man Sephiroth had become. I can’t begin to tell you how worried I was at the idea of him growing up next to his biological parents in a company that bred him as a weapon. When the situation was explained to me and I realised Sephiroth was part of a loving, nurturing family and he didn’t exhibit any of his biological parents’ less than savoury characteristics, I was relieved beyond words. 

“I have never had cause or found the occasion to voice any of this to any of you but… Well, it seemed appropriate just now.”

Aerith smiled—actually _beamed_ at him—and reached across the table to place a quick peck on the gunman’s cheek, making his blush intensify. 

“No one has ever said anything like that to any of us, I think. Thank you, Vincent. And thank you for always having my brother’s and his friends’ interests in mind. I know it’s not easy to stand up to a man like my dad but you’ve always known how to handle him.”

Vincent had no reply to that so he didn’t try to give one. Instead, he called the waiter and ordered dessert. 

* * *

Vincent shuffled into his apartment a little after five. After lunch with Aerith, he returned to the office and went through some accumulated paperwork before deciding to clock out early. He took his shoes off at the door, as he always did, and flung his jacket, gloves, and tie on the couch before flopping down on it himself. He fished his phone out of his pants and stared at the screen for what felt like hours. When he finally gathered the willpower to open the contacts list, his thumb hesitated above Sephiroth’s name. 

He knew he had to call him. Not only had he promised so to Gast and Aerith but his argument was true: he needed to know that they could be in the same room without Galian or Jenova flipping out and causing trouble. He also needed to know that he would be capable of doing his job objectively without his feelings for Sephiroth getting in the way. In order to do that, he had to figure out exactly what it was he felt for the younger man and, if possible, what the General felt for him.

He’d told the others that he loved Sephiroth and that he wanted a relationship with him. It wasn’t a lie, but he wondered if he could truly commit to something like that. He loved the Turks—and Rufus—with all his heart and couldn’t see himself giving them up in any fashion or degree. Ever since he was a teenager he knew had an unconventional take on relationships; that’s why it was so easy for him to fit with the current Turks’ off-the-clock activities. He never questioned it, not even when Rufus was suddenly added into the mix, and he wasn’t questioning it now that a large part of him was contemplating a possible affair with Sephiroth. There hadn’t been time to even consider how Sephiroth could or would alter his current situation, and Vincent found that his first idea was to just add him to it without altering the rest. 

It was a thought that gained strength when he took Chaos and Galian into account. 

They had never discussed it but Vincent knew Chaos cared for the Turks as much as he did. While both of them tried not to play favourites, it was clear that Vincent felt closer to Tseng and Elena—and there was something about Rufus that definitely fascinated him—while Chaos had a softer spot for Cissnei and a craving for Rude. As soon as it became clear that Galian could share Vincent’s headspace without causing trouble, the gunman realised the Cetran guard was smitten with Reno. How long that had been going on he couldn’t say, but he was certain it had been cemented at Jenova’s containment room thanks to the redhead’s bold comment. 

To be in an exclusive relationship with Sephiroth would undoubtedly disrupt all these little coteries and it would nettle Chaos and Galian to no end. (Particularly Galian—he hadn’t voiced it so far but Vincent was positive the Planet Protector didn’t quite trust Sephiroth.)

To complicate matters, he was certain these affections were not one-sided. For all their talk about wanting Vincent to give Sephiroth a chance, he knew the others weren’t ready to give him up. Perhaps they had thought the same as he had, that they could share him with Sephiroth and everyone would be happy. It was a simple solution, truly, but Vincent couldn’t recall the last time anything in his life had been so uncomplicated. 

 _‘I’m getting way ahead of myself,’_ he thought. 

What he’d told Rufus a few days ago remained true: any sort of relationship with Sephiroth beyond friendship was still too far off into the future for him to be worrying about it now. He had to tackle the most pressing matter, which was figuring out whether or not they could work together.

Steeling himself, he brought up Sephiroth’s number and dialled. He tried to even out his breathing as the call went through and found himself wishing he’d called one of the others first to keep him company. He even considered hanging up and doing just that but then Sephiroth’s smooth voice came through the receiver and he was trapped.

_“Sephiroth Faremis speaking. Who is this?”_

Vincent blinked and was momentarily confused—Sephiroth should know who was calling, given that he’d called him before. The clipped tone gave him pause, too. 

He was about to panic when it dawned on him that the IT department was still fumbling with the network so he was still using the secure phone Cissnei gave him before the raid on Avalanche’s hideout. Of course Sephiroth wouldn’t recognise the number as they hadn’t handed them out to anyone they didn’t absolutely need to contact. While Zack, Angeal, and Cloud had needed new phones due to their involvement in the Avalanche affair (and Kunsel now had one because he was back on the Avalanche detail), Sephiroth had been kept out of the loop for obvious reasons. 

“Director Valentine,” Vincent said with a small rush of relief. “I hope I am not interrupting, General.” 

It was easier to keep his composure if he slipped into business-mode, not to mention safer for everyone involved given the state of things at Shinra.

He could hear Sephiroth’s sharp breath intake and the rolling of a chair. A few seconds passed in silence before Sephiroth spoke again. 

_“Director. No, you’re not. I was just going through some files Lazard sent over regarding security for the city during the summit.”_

“I see. I won’t keep you long, then. I was wondering if you could meet with me tomorrow for lunch. I’m afraid I have meetings scheduled for most of the day so I can’t leave the building, but I can order something from Leviathan’s Scales and we can eat in my office.”

 _“Of course.”_ Sephiroth’s answer rushed out of him as though he’d been holding his breath while Vincent spoke. _“What time?”_

“Two o’clock would be fine, unless you’d prefer it to be earlier.”

_“No, that sounds good.”_

“All right. I’ll leave you to your work then, General. See you tomorrow.”

_“See you tomorrow, Director.”_

Vincent disconnected the call and noticed his hand was shaking so much it was a wonder the phone didn’t slip from his fingers. He dropped the device next to him on the couch and mentally prodded Galian.

_Galian? Are you there?_

_I am, Host._

_It’s Vincent, remember?_ A small grunt was all the answer he got and a small smile tugged at his mouth. _Anyway, how are you feeling?_

Galian seemed to ponder the question before Vincent felt him shrug. It had been a shock to find that he could feel all of Galian’s visual cues, so to speak, but not Chaos’s. He had no idea how or why, but he supposed it had something to do with Galian’s hormonal imbalance. Whatever the case, it would take some getting used to, just like it would take Galian some time to be comfortable enough to call Vincent by his name.

_I feel fine. Why do you ask?_

_I just talked to Sephiroth on the phone and I was wondering if you felt anything._

_Oh. No, I did not. Have you arranged a meeting with him, then?_

_Yes, tomorrow at lunch. Would you mind being awake then? I need to know that what Ifalna did will work when Sephiroth is close by._

_Certainly._

_Thank you. You can go back to sleep if you like._

A small nod was Galian’s answer before he slipped back into slumber. Vincent thought about rousing Chaos but he quickly dismissed the idea. The Weapon had had a rough couple of weeks, too, and he needed all the rest he could get before the summit threw everything off-balance again. 

Instead, Vincent reached for his phone once more and sent a text to the Turks to let them know he was free and they could come visit if they wanted. Reno was the first to reply, stating he’d be over as soon as he changed out of his uniform. The others replied a few minutes later, all of them confirming they’d be arriving soon except for Tseng, who was still caught up in meetings with Rufus. 

After sending a message to Reno allowing him to let himself in when he arrived, Vincent picked up his clothes and went to his room to change.  

* * *

_“All right. I’ll leave you to your work then, General. See you tomorrow.”_

“See you tomorrow, Director.”

The call disconnected from the other side and Sephiroth stood by his office’s window staring at his phone. His heart thundered in his chest and blood rushed through his ears so loudly he missed the knock on his door and nearly jumped back when he heard someone calling his name from somewhere near his desk.

“Gaia, Seph, what’s the matter?”

Angeal and Genesis stood in front of his desk, twin looks of concern on their faces. Realising his phone was still open in his trembling hand, he closed it and slid it back into one of his coat’s pockets. 

“Nothing. I… Director Valentine just called.”

“Oh? What did he say?” Genesis asked as he sat on a chair. Next to him, Angeal did the same.

Sephiroth took a deep breath and sat behind his desk, eyeing the reports on it wearily. 

“He asked me to have lunch with him tomorrow at his office.”

“That’s all?” Angeal asked. When Sephiroth looked at him with the same surly expression he reserved for particularly dull-witted recruits, he put his hands up defensively. “I mean, that’s a good thing, Seph. You looked like you’d just gotten bad news when we came in.”

“He sounded too formal,” Sephiroth said, arms crossed over his chest.

“No need to take it personally. We are under alert because of Avalanche and the Turks have been using secure connections for some days now. He probably didn’t want to risk attracting attention by being too open on the phone,” Genesis explained.

Sephiroth blinked slowly twice before sighing heavily. “That didn’t occur to me.”

“You weren’t unnecessarily short with him, were you?” Genesis asked in a tone that tried not to be patronising but mostly failed.

“No. If anything I might have been a bit too eager.”

“As long as you don’t arrive at his office with flowers and chocolates and bouncing off the walls, a little eagerness is not bad,” Angeal joked.

The General looked at his friend with a look of genuine horror and disgust. “Who do you take me for, Angeal? Your puppy?”

Genesis burst out laughing while Angeal had the gall to look offended on his disciple’s behalf. 

“You have no right to call him that, Seph.”

“If you don’t want people to use the silly nicknames you give your subordinates, then don’t come up with them in the first place.”

“At least don’t spread them around the office like wildfire,” Genesis added. “Luckily for Strife, Fair has a bit more common sense than you in that regard.”

“Fair has a nickname for Strife?” Sephiroth asked.

“See?” Genesis said. “Not even Sephiroth knows, and he knows _everything_.”

Green eyes rolled back in annoyance but a small smile tugged at the corner of Sephiroth’s lips. “I suppose you’re feeling better if the sarcasm is back.”

The smile on Genesis face could not have been wider. “I’m feeling great, actually. More than a little eager to get back on the field but, well, I’m still not cleared for that.”

“Hopefully Father miscalculated and you’ll be back to full strength sooner than he expects. If Avalanche makes good on its threat on Midgar we’ll need you at our side.”

“May the Goddess heed your wishes, my friend.”

A somewhat heavy silence fell amongst the three men until Genesis decided to return to the original subject.

“So, lunch with Director Valentine tomorrow, is it? How are you feeling about that?”

“Like I said, eager. More than a little nervous, too, to be perfectly honest.”

“It’s just lunch,” Angeal said. “At the office, too. What’s there to be nervous about?”

Genesis rolled his mako-tinted eyes and punched his lover gently on the arm. “You tactless oaf. It’s the first time they’ll have a chance to talk after the mess at the labs. A lot hangs on this one meeting so don’t dismiss it as trivial just because it’ll take place at an office in the middle of the day.”

Angeal rubbed his arm and glared playfully at Genesis. He knew the auburn-haired man hadn’t put much force behind it but he still felt the whisper of pain where he’d been hit. If it meant that his lover truly was on the mend, he didn’t mind more playful blows.

“I was trying to keep him from freaking out, Gen, but thanks for painting such a somber picture for us all.”

Sephiroth smiled fondly as his friends continued to bicker on his behalf for a few more minutes. Once their focus shifted back to him, he suggested going out for drinks. He was much too excited to keep on working and he’d missed these relaxed moments with his friends since Genesis’s health took asouthward turn. Apparently they felt the same way because they agreed at once and in unison, drawing an overly dramatic sigh from Genesis and a hearty laugh from Angeal. Sephiroth joined his older friend in laughter and soon so did Genesis.

They left the General’s office amidst easy laughter and light banter, Sephiroth feeling better than he had in weeks.

 

 


	12. Machinations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In order for Vincent and Sephiroth to sit down and have lunch (Galian permitting, that is), many preparations must be made. Said preparations are the start of a series of schemes aimed at bringing the Director and the General closer. But will they work…?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back (again)! Explanation and more notes at the bottom. 
> 
> [ff.net: Reposting this on Sunday, September 27th to fix typos and continuity errors.]  
> [AO3: Sorry for the delay! I don’t know why the site wasn’t letting me paste the text on my tablet (it kept asking me to use the ctrl+V command, which is not possible when there’s no physical keyboard, which was my case) so I had to wait until I could come to the café and get it done on my laptop. As a small bonus for this, though, you’re getting a revised version. Still, if you find any typos or continuity errors, do let me know!)

Genesis didn’t hate paperwork nearly as much as Sephiroth and the others did. In fact, he found it a rather relaxing activity that could, on occasion, serve as meditation. Now that he was feeling a lot better thanks to the compound to reverse his degradation, he was in good enough spirits to tackle the pile of paperwork that had accumulated on his desk in the past several weeks. While both Angeal and Sephiroth had offered to help him with it, the truth was that neither had any actual intentions of going anywhere near their own paperwork, let alone anyone else’s, before the deadline loomed ominously on the horizon—not even when Lazard threatened to dock their pay. That was probably why the Director had made sure that Genesis didn’t have anything too important on his plate since his health began to deteriorate. He was still late with it, though, and he felt slightly guilty about it so he thought to tackle it in the days prior to his full reinstatement to active service. 

He was about a quarter of the way through the pile when he felt like taking a small coffee break. He signed one last report and set it aside to be filed later when a knock came on the door. He frowned and took a sideways glance at the clock—a quarter to eleven. It was too early for Angeal to be done with morning drills and come check on him or for Sephiroth to come do the same after rounds at the barracks. Other than them and Lazard, no one knew he was at his office, not even his secretary. With everything that was going on, he felt his stomach knot in anxiety.

“Come in,” he said, warily.

A mop of fiery red hair was the first thing he saw come in through the door, a pair of goggles nestled atop it. That was all he needed to see to know it was Reno trying to sneak into his office by opening the door as little as possible while basically plastered to the walls. He managed it, although Genesis wasn’t exactly sure how. Reno was willowy and nimble but the trick with the door made it look like he was made of shadows and smoke. 

Moving past that, the auburn-haired Commander wondered _why_ Reno felt the need to be so furtive. 

“Good morning, Reno.”

Reno closed the door behind him and locked it, earning a raised eyebrow from Genesis. A lopsided smile and a half-shrug were his only reply to that as he walked towards the desk and sat on a chair. 

“Morning, Commander. I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.”

“No, not really. I was about to go get some coffee. Would you like to join me?”

The redhead shook his head. “No, thanks. I’d rather no one knew I was here, really.”

“So I gathered,” Genesis said. Once again, Reno made no comment on his impressive entrance so the Soldier decided to let it slide. “How may I help you?”

“I need some intel on the General that can’t be found on official records.”

Genesis frowned and leaned forward on his desk. “What kind of intel?”

Reno produced a notepad from somewhere in his jacket and a pen from behind his ear. After flipping through the notepad, he stopped on the page he needed, crossed his left leg over the other and used his knee as support while he tapped the pen on the armrest and read from his list. 

“Food allergies, for starters. Anything he doesn’t like to eat, stuff he does like to eat. Most and least favourite drinks. Anything that reacts the wrong way with mako. And… Wait, what?” 

He squinted and brought the notepad half an inch from his nose. His eyes grew wide once he was able to read the note and a faint blush coloured his cheeks. He cleared his throat and crossed out the last item on his list. 

“Never mind that. Just… the rest, yeah.”

The Commander was incredibly curious about whatever it was that got Reno of all people flustered but he was even more curious about the sudden interest in his friend’s eating habits. It clicked, then, a possible reason for the Turk’s visit. A smile tugged at his lips.

“This is about his lunch with Director Valentine later today, isn’t it?”

Reno nodded. “Yeah. The Director asked me to buy lunch for them at Leviathan’s Scales but the General’s never been there so it’ll be tricky to choose something that he’ll like and won’t poison him or something.”

Genesis laughed, relaxing back into his chair. “I don’t think any of us can get poisoned, Reno.”

The redhead shook his head. “I don’t know, sir. I’ve seen Zack take some pretty serious hits from shady-ass seafood, if you’ll forgive the expression.”

Now that the Turk mentioned it, the auburn-haired Soldier had a vague recollection of Angeal leaving in the middle of the night to check on Zack at the infirmary. He’d barely been awake long enough to understand that Angeal was leaving, so the details of the reason behind Zack’s trip to the doctor’s had completely eluded him. 

“Point taken,” he said. “I wouldn’t worry too much about Sephiroth ingesting questionable seafood, though. He doesn’t really like it.”

Reno nodded and started taking notes. 

In the end, it boiled down to Sephiroth having no known food allergies (although there had been an incident with some cotton linens brought in from Cosmo that had lead to a very impressive and persistent bout of nettlerash) and disliking seafood overall while having a liking for salmon. He didn’t have any particular favourite food and was open to trying pretty much anything laid before him so long as it didn’t resemble something found in a ration pack, as he had developed an aversion to the stuff that made it difficult for him to go on long-term missions away from a decently stocked kitchen. The same went for drinks, both alcoholic and soft. He wasn’t big on sweets but enjoyed dessert now and again, and while Genesis didn’t know of any foods that interacted negatively with mako, he passed along the tip that over the counter painkillers did nothing for any of the Firsts and digestives took ages to work. 

“So if for some strange reason he does come down with something caused by food, just take him over to Professor Faremis’s office,” he advised.

The redheaded Turk nodded as he finished writing everything down. 

“Thank you, sir. This doesn’t particularly narrow anything down but at least I know I won’t accidentally get him admitted to the sick bay.”

Genesis shrugged in lieu of an apology and asked why Reno hadn’t gone directly to Sephiroth. The redhead closed his notepad and returned it to his jacket but kept playing with the pen, tapping it against the sole of his shoe. 

“I was going to, but I didn’t want to interrupt him. Besides, I figured he’d feel more relaxed if I didn’t play 20 Questions with him before his lunch with the Director.”

The last part wasn’t entirely true (he didn’t care too much about the silver-haired swordsman’s relaxation but he did want the lunch to go well) but the first statement wasn’t a lie. Reno just wasn’t sure that he wanted to be the one to break the news of Sephiroth’s altered schedule to Genesis, not when the Commander was still supposed to be taking things easy and the General was taking out his frustrations in a rather public and over the top manner. 

When Vincent asked him to take care of lunch because he would be too busy to do it himself, Reno _did_ go looking for Sephiroth. According to Soldier’s intranet schedule, the General was on his weekly tour of the barracks and should be found precisely there. However, when Reno went down to the barracks he found everyone confused due to the General’s unexplained absence. Undeterred, Reno decided to look for Angeal in the training grounds. 

He expected to find a bunch of Seconds and Thirds going through drills with Angeal at the helm but found Cloud leading the session, instead. The blond told him that Angeal had started the morning routine but had been called away to the Training Room by Zack and Cloud had been assigned to fill in. 

Feeling a bit like a sphere in a pinball machine, Reno went up to the Soldier wing. Once there, all he had to do was follow the growing crowd of idle Seconds and Thirds all the way to the VR chamber. 

It was rare for the Firsts to make use of the VR room when they could be watched and it was easy to understand why: they attracted a lot of attention and productivity went down the drain, giving Lazard an instant headache. If any of them felt the need to spar with one of their fellow Firsts, they would usually find a secluded location off compound to engage in playful but less than harmless swordplay. For some reason, though, Sephiroth was in the middle of an impressive sword fight against Angeal _and_ Zack in a jungle-like environment provided by the VR system. 

Reno wasn’t a big fan of sharp, pointy things. He preferred hand-to-hand combat and handy weapons like his electromagnetic rod, something that could leave a mark without spilling a ton of blood in the process. In that sense, guns made him uncomfortable, too, even if he had a decent accuracy record. Explosives were a lot of fun, provided he was well away from the blast zone—preferably on a chopper flying towards safety. 

All the same, the display the three Firsts were putting on as he stood amidst the ogling crowd was impressive. In spite of being numerically outmatched, Sephiroth seemed to be winning the encounter. Simply put, Angeal’s Buster Sword and Zack’s Hardedge were formidable weapons… provided you could get close enough to the enemy to land a hit, something Masamune’s range and Sephiroth’s speed made nearly impossible even for his fellow Firsts. Angeal was holding back, though; it was evident in the way he pulled his slashes just before impact and in the way he blatantly disregarded the few openings Sephiroth offered on his right side. Zack, on the other hand, was trying to compensate his lack of speed and range by putting his whole weight into every swing and charge. That only led to him getting tired faster than he normally would have, an advantage of which Sephiroth was fully aware and did his best to exploit and that resulted in Zack landing awkwardly on trees all over the place. 

The redhead decided to leave when it became obvious that Zack had decided to just hang back and let Angeal do all the work while he caught his breath. It was around that time that he noticed just how tense Sephiroth seemed to be. He would’ve been willing to bet his entire month’s salary on the cause of the General’s frustration being the scheduled lunch with the Head Turk and that worried him a little. However, if Sephiroth acknowledged the fact that he needed to let off steam before meeting with Vincent and found a more or less safe way to do it then it meant that he cared about the meeting and wanted it to go over well. That certainly helped Reno’s plans along.

Of course, Genesis didn’t need to know any of that. At least not yet. 

“I appreciate your concern,” Genesis said with a small smile. “If there’s anything else I can assist you with, give me a call or come see me.”

Reno nodded and stood up, throwing a lazy salute and a ‘thanks, sir’ Genesis’s way. 

The Turk left as stealthily as he had arrived, once again leaving the Commander impressed. Dismissing the feeling quickly, he grinned. He now had someone to turn to when the time came to set his plans in motion.

* * *

 

Cloud hadn’t been aware of Sephiroth’s match with Angeal and Zack until after it was over, given that he’d been stuck with morning drills. Zack had been the one to tell him all about it while they were both taking a shower in the gym. His friend was still adrenalised, talking faster and more enthusiastically than usual. Already the bruises he sustained from his multiple collisions with the trees in the jungle environment were beginning to fade, and he didn’t seem to mind the soap running over the still open cut on his right bicep. Amidst Zack’s chatter, Cloud picked up the fact that Angeal seemed to be worried about Sephiroth’s behaviour; Zack even expressed some degree of surprise over the silver-haired man’s desire to spar in the VR room but the excitement of taking on Sephiroth alongside his mentor overruled everything else. 

He was adjusting his boots and mulling over the information Zack had given him when his phone beeped, informing him he’d just received a message. He nearly dropped the device when he saw the message had come from the General and was an order to meet with him at his office ASAP. In all his years in Soldier, Cloud had never been summoned to a meeting with Sephiroth. There had been briefings for missions and he’d had to deliver reports to the man’s office in person, but never something like this. 

Up until a few years ago, he would have been thrilled to have been personally called by his childhood hero, but ever since Vincent’s reinstatement to Shinra Cloud’d had the feeling that Sephiroth didn’t particularly like him. It wasn’t something he could pinpoint, as the General hadn’t said or done anything to indicate any sort of animosity towards Cloud, so he hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, not even Tifa or Zack. Yet there were times when Sephiroth would look at him with mistrust and maybe even a small degree of contempt. There was something else in those looks that Cloud had failed to identify over and over again, but it was that _something_ that cemented his suspicions. 

Given this, he wasn’t too thrilled to have received the summons. He was even less enthused when Zack, upon reading the message over his shoulder, patted his back in sympathy and warned him to thread carefully. Whether it was a joke or a warning stemmed from the General’s earlier behaviour Cloud wasn’t sure, but it made his stomach tie itself to knots all the way to Sephiroth’s office. 

As soon as she saw him, Sephiroth’s secretary told him he could go into the office right away. Taking a deep breath to brace himself against whatever the silver-haired man had in mind, Cloud opened the door. 

Whatever he was expecting did not include the great General Sephiroth Faremis pacing up and down his office like a caged tiger (Cloud was well aware that the expression called for a lion to be mentioned but the General was more of a tiger, at least in his mind; perhaps if he’d ever seen a panther, he might have been reminded of that, instead). The sound of the door closing brought the pacing to a halt and Sephiroth’s glowing eyes rooted Cloud to his spot right by the door. It took him a second to recover and salute, standing even straighter than on the day of his promotion to Second Class. Sephiroth quickly motioned for him to be at ease and take a chair while he returned to his own. Cloud could see the older man was agonising over something but he kept quiet, waiting for Sephiroth to explain why he had called for him. 

Once more, what the General asked was the last thing Cloud expected to hear.

“What would be an appropriate present to give Director Valentine on an informal lunch?”

Cloud blinked slowly and tried to process the question. When he realised he had no idea how to answer it, all he could do was ask for clarification in hopes something would come to mind. Eying him wearily, like he did whenever someone asked something stupid at a briefing, the General repeated the question with the exact same wording, adding a tone that indicated that the blond better have a satisfactory answer this time. 

Not having one, Cloud decided to ask a question of his own to try to come up with an answer that wouldn’t get him pinned to the wall, Masamune straight through his heart.

“I’m sorry sir, but… Why would you bring a present to a lunch meeting?”

He mentally congratulated himself when he didn’t flinch at the daggers Sephiroth was shooting from his feline eyes. He did an imaginary backflip when the General then deflated and seemed to consider his question carefully. After almost a minute, Sephiroth sighed and shook his head. 

“I simply don’t want to arrive empty handed but I have no idea what to bring him.”

Out of all the questions that crammed into his head just then—why is he even worrying about something like that?, why isn’t he asking one of the Turks?—, Cloud settled on one that would help the situation along (and, once again, would allow him to leave the office on his own two legs).

“All right. Um, well… Were you thinking about something simple like food, maybe, or something more… significant?”

“Significant?”

The blond gulped audibly. It was uncanny how much meaning and subtext Sephiroth could confer on a single word. In this case, _significant_ was an order to elaborate, but also a warning to thread lightly and to avoid meddling in affairs that were none of his business. All in all, it struck terror into the young Soldier’s heart.

“What I mean is… Do you want to thank him for something or maybe congratulate him? Or is it just, you know, a matter of courtesy, sir?”

After thinking about it for a moment, Sephiroth said it was just a matter of courtesy. Feeling like he dodged an onslaught of bullets, Cloud relaxed some and thought about it. 

“You could always get him sweets, sir. It might seem a bit odd but anything with chocolate makes Director Valentine very happy.”

Sephiroth frowned and scrunched his nose as though Cloud had just told him Vincent liked poisonous frogs. Not wanting to inquire as to the reason for this reaction, Cloud racked his brain trying to think of something else that Vincent might like but nothing he came up with could be considered a casual present. Just as he was about to blurt out the first thing that came to mind to at least end the heavy silence that had fallen between them, Sephiroth nodded decisively.

“Does he have a favourite brand?”

“He’s not very particular about that, but I seem to recall him really liking ChocoMog’s strawberry-filled truffles.”

“Do you know where to buy them?”

Cloud nodded and started giving directions to a confectionery over in Sector Two when Sephiroth’s phone rang. He answered with a snarl—an _actual_ snarl that made Cloud jump a bit on his seat—and put down the receiver with enough force to leave a crack along it. Looking at the time, his scowl deepened and he took out his wallet. He looked at the bills inside and seemed about to ask something when he shook his head and took out his credit card, instead, handing it over to Cloud. 

“I have just been called to a meeting so I’ll need you to go buy them for me. I’ll contact Zack to let him know you’ll be out on an errand. I’m supposed to meet Director Valentine at two so be here by one-thirty at the latest.”

To his credit, Cloud didn’t hesitate to take the card and nod. He waited to be dismissed and then all but ran out of the General’s office and towards the elevator bank, heading straight to the garage where his motorcycle was parked. 

He’d made the trip to and from Sector Two in less than an hour, allowing him to return to headquarters with fifteen minutes to spare. Given the General’s somewhat keyed up behaviour when he entrusted him with the bizarre errand, he was glad. 

Cloud parked Fenrir and took out a small plastic bag from the trunk. After making sure the contents were not damaged, he took his Tsurugi from the side compartment and went to the elevator bank. While he waited for the elevator to arrive, he checked his phone and found one message from Sephiroth stating that he was back in his office and would be expecting Cloud. The blond took a moment to inform the General that he was on his way then he got on the elevator and pressed the button for the Soldier COs’ floor. 

The doors were closing when he heard someone asking to hold the elevator so he stopped the doors. Reno came running then, carrying two take-out bags from Leviathan’s Scales on each hand a cold bag slung over his left shoulder. 

“The Turks’ floor?” Cloud asked while Reno left the bags on the floor and rubbed his hands to try to smooth out the impressions left behind by the handles. 

“Yeah. Thanks, yo.”

The blond nodded and pressed the button, leaning against the back wall while the elevator lurched to life. 

“Lunch run for the entire department?”

“Not exactly. This is just for the Director and the General, plus some for me, Tseng, and Rufus. The rest don’t like Wutain food.”

The blond smirked, shaking his own, smaller bag. “Seems like we were both sent on errands for Vincent and Sephiroth’s lunch.”

Reno blinked and took a peek at the contents of Cloud’s bag. 

“Sephiroth sent you to get ChocoMog’s strawberry-filled truffles for Vince, yo?” 

Cloud just nodded and Reno looked confused for a moment. He grinned afterwards, though, leaning against a wall and crossing his arms behind his head. He seemed pleased, which only piqued the blond’s curiosity and prompted him to ask something he hadn’t been able to bring up with the General.

“Is this lunch meeting particularly important for some reason?” When Reno merely raised an eyebrow, Cloud elaborated. “Sephiroth has been acting weird today. He challenged Zack and Angeal to a fight in the VR and he seemed very uneasy when he called me to ask what to get for Vincent. I don’t even know why’d he want to bring something to a lunch meeting.”

The redhead hummed and thought about it for a moment. He shrugged after a while and said, “It’s complicated. All I can say is that it’s related to the stuff we hauled over from Nibelheim.”

Cloud nodded slowly. He hadn’t had a chance to talk to Vincent about that but given what he knew of the gunman plus what had happened with Galian in Jenova’s containment room, he had an idea of just how complicated things were. He knew Reno wouldn’t explain further even if he asked so he decided not to. There was no time, anyway, as they arrived to the Turks’ floor and Cloud had to hold the door so Reno could pick up his bags and exit the elevator. Soon after, he arrived on his floor and went straight to Sephiroth’s office. Again, the General’s secretary told him to go right ahead and the blond knocked on the door quickly before entering. 

He stopped right inside the office when he noticed all four Soldiers First Class were inside. Angeal and Genesis were sitting on the chairs in front of Sephiroth’s desk while Zack was perched on the corner of the desk. The General was sitting on his chair, for all the world looking like he was about to have a nervous breakdown—the kind that would end with a lot of bodies and a nightmare for housekeeping. 

He was still debating whether or not to say something when three pairs of blue, mako-glowing eyes zeroed in on him, rooting him to the spot much like Sephiroth had done before. The difference was that the three men looking at him were smiling and they looked all the more intimidating for it. He’d rather they were scowling or something—at least then he’d know what to expect from them. 

All of them except Genesis, that is. There was something about his gaze that wasn’t so predatory as the others’ and that made Cloud feel like he was being sized up.

“Spikes! You’re just in time,” Zack intoned.

The youngest First jumped off the desk and strode merrily towards the blond. Huge discomfort momentarily forgotten in favour of feeling miffed at being called such an embarrassing name in front of all his superiors, Cloud blushed and frowned, crossing his arms over his chest and taking a defensive stance.

“I’ve asked you not to call me that in front of our COs, sir.”

“What’s with the ‘sir’? We’re all friends here, Spikes! Besides, you’re already one of us!”

“Not officially,” the blond countered. Zack was already only a few steps away and it made Cloud uncomfortable. “As for the rest, I’m here on official business, Lieutenant.”

He’d hoped that would stop Zack but it only seemed to spur him on.

“That is precisely what we wanted to discuss. See, Seph here won’t tell us what it is he sent you out to do, so we were hoping you’d be able to answer that.”

Cloud shot a quick look at Sephiroth and the man’s eyes were clear enough: _speak and you_ will _regret it_. So he shifted his stance lightly and as casually as he could to keep the bag out of Zack’s reach. He had no idea what the Lieutenant and Commanders were up to but he would rather face their wrath that incur in the General’s. 

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you, sir. General’s orders and all that.”

Zack pouted and stood less than two feet away from Cloud, arms crossed over his chest and legs spread like Angeal did when giving a lecture.

“ _I_ am your CO, soldier. If I ask you a question, you must answer me.”

“And I am yours, _Lieutenant_.”

Sephiroth was walking towards them, pointedly ignoring the amused expressions on Angeal and Genesis’s faces. He walked all the way up to Cloud and stood at his side, standing straight as an arrow to take advantage of the few inches he had on Zack to look taller and more imposing. 

“Since you are so keen on upholding the chain of command, Lieutenant Fair, I’m sure you will comply when I order you not to interrogate Second Lieutenant Strife on this matter. The same goes for both of you, _Commanders_.” 

Without giving any of them a chance to reply, he turned to Cloud and said, “Follow me outside, Strife.”

Cloud saluted hastily and followed Sephiroth without another word. The General was giving instructions to his secretary when Cloud closed the door behind him. As soon as he was done, he motioned for the blond to follow him and they walked all the way to the elevators before Sephiroth stopped. He glanced quickly towards his office, probably expecting the other three to have followed them. When it became obvious that they were going to wait there, he nodded and turned to Cloud.

The blond handed him the bag and his credit card and Sephiroth looked at the contents. There was a green paper bag inside along with the box of truffles. 

“In case you wanted something nicer than a plastic bag to hand the chocolates to Director Valentine, sir,” Cloud promptly explained.

Sephiroth nodded and placed the box of truffles in the paper bag, handing Cloud the plastic one. He took a deep breath and looked at his watch. It was still early but he didn’t want to go back to his office to deal with his nosy friends. Which reminded him…

“It’s unlikely they’ll drop the subject—”

Cloud shook his head and interrupted him. “I ran into Reno on the elevator and he said this lunch meeting is important for you and Director Valentine, sir, so I won’t tell them what it is you asked me to do. I’ll come up with something else.”

Sephiroth looked at him with that same _something_ that made him so uneasy. However, it only lasted for a couple of seconds before the General looked _relieved_. 

“Thank you… Cloud. I’ll go kill some time at R&D before going to lunch with Director Valentine. I would suggest you find somewhere to lay low for the rest of the day. I can’t give you the day off but I’m sure you can avoid those three just fine.”

“I’m sure I can. Good luck, General.”

Sephiroth nodded and took the elevator, leaving Cloud dealing with conflicting emotions. That thank-you, for starters—the blond couldn’t remember the General ever genuinely thanking him, much less using his first name while doing so. It made him feel like he’d earned a little bit of the silver-haired man’s trust. However, that was greatly shadowed by the look he gave him right before. 

As he stepped into another elevator to go to the med wing to visit Kunsel, he finally realised what the _something_ in Sephiroth’s eyes was. The realisation was so sudden and strange that it forced him to lean on the wall for support. 

There was no real reason for it—not that he could think of, anyway—but he was now certain that Sephiroth was _jealous_ of him. Backtracking a little and adding what he knew, he amended that thought: Sephiroth was jealous of his relationship with Vincent. That was the only logical explanation for the General’s overall demeanour towards him since Vincent’s return. 

The implications of _why_ Sephiroth would be jealous of such a thing weren’t lost on the blond but he didn’t want to even consider them—it felt too much like intruding in something he had no right to witness. All he focused on at the moment was the fact that, in spite of how he felt, Sephiroth had asked him for help and trusted him enough to ask him to run the errand for him. He had also seemed reassured by what Cloud told him about not telling the other Firsts what the errand was, so all he had to do was show the General that he had no intention of getting in the way of whatever Sephiroth was trying to accomplish with Vincent. Simple enough, really. 

A small smile tugged at his lips as the elevator stopped on the med wing floor but quickly faded when he found Genesis waiting for him in the hall. He had no idea how the Commander had gotten there so quickly; probably the stairs or some new teleporting materia. 

He briefly considered just pressing the button for another floor but knew that Genesis would make it into the elevator before the doors even began closing so he took a deep breath and stepped outside. He eyed Genesis carefully for a moment and waited for him to say something. When he eventually did, Cloud once again found himself utterly confused.

“Zack and Angeal are looking for you in all the wrong places. We’ll stop by and say hello to Second Lieutenant Larouche and then I’ll cover for you the rest of the day.”

Cloud opened his mouth to say something but he remembered the look Genesis gave him back at Sephiroth’s office. Apparently, he’d passed whatever test the Commander had put him through and was now willing to keep him away from the other two. If made him feel like he was stepping into something potentially dangerous but he really didn’t want to end up on the receiving end of one of Zack’s interrogations. So, with a small nod, he followed Genesis to Kunsel’s room.

* * *

 

Reno stood outside Vincent’s office trying to figure out how to knock on the door without leaving the bags on the floor again. Realising it was impossible, he shrugged and kicked the door twice. When Vincent told him to come in, he sighed.

“I can’t, Bossman. I don’t have enough arms.”

Vincent opened the door with a bemused expression. As soon as he understood Reno’s comment, he reached for one of the bags and closed the door behind the redhead. 

“I know you think I don’t eat enough but I believe you’ve gone overboard this time, Reno.”

“Haha, so funny, Bossman. I made the mistake of telling Tseng and Rufus where I was going and they decided that Wutain sounded awesome for lunch so I had to get food for them, too. I was already there, so I got some for me, as well.”

He was sorting through the bags to determine what he would leave in Vincent’s office and what he’d take to the lounge when there came a knock on the door. Vincent got it and found Rufus and Tseng outside, the Wutain looking dejected while the President’s look was pinched.

“What happened?” Vincent asked.

The gunman’s tone made Reno turn around, alarm bells going off in his head. When he saw Rufus and Tseng, his stomach sank. 

It got worse when, right after Rufus closed and locked the door, Tseng’s eyes welled up and he clung to Vincent, holding him so tightly that Reno began to fear for the gunman’s ribs. 

Vincent’s arms automatically wrapped protectively around Tseng, bringing him closer and kissing the top of his head. Tseng was crying so the gunman looked to Rufus for answers. The blond sighed and ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head slowly.

“He got a call from his youngest sister. Their father has just been diagnosed with end stage lung cancer and the prognosis isn’t good. He’s got maybe a few more months, definitely not a year. And…”

Rufus hesitated, looking at Tseng’s back with the same anguished look he’d had when he saw Vincent break down in the Wutain’s arms a few nights ago. 

Tseng’s hands fisted on Vincent’s jacket hard enough for his knuckles to turn white and his ragged sob made both of them shake a little. 

“He doesn’t want to see me,” Tseng managed. “Mother and Asumi are the same but the twins and Megumi got into an argument with my parents about it and she decided to call and let me know even after they were forbidden to contact me.”

Asumi was Tseng’s oldest little sister, Megumi being the youngest of them all. Keiji and Taiten, the twins, were two years older than Tseng. Out of all his siblings, Asumi was the only one to still resent Tseng’s decision to leave Wutai to see the world and escape before the war started. His parents had all but disowned him as soon as they realised he was gone and he’d lost all contact with them. The twins and Megumi were the only links he still had to his direct family, a fact his parents chose to ignore most of the time. 

Vincent led Tseng to the couch he kept in his office to nap on days when going back to his apartment wasn’t possible and sat with his second in command on his lap. After telling them how he received the news, Tseng had gone back to crying more or less silently. Reno went over and sat to Vincent’s right, resting his chin on Tseng’s shoulder and rubbing his arm. Rufus sat on the other side and placed a reassuring hand on his bodyguard’s knee; his lips were pressed tightly and he looked angry. 

No one said anything for a few minutes. The truth was that neither Vincent, Reno, nor Rufus knew what to say to comfort Tseng. Reno had never met his parents and Rufus and Vincent had strained relationships with their fathers up to the moment of their deaths, which had come suddenly. None of them had experience with a terminally ill parent that didn’t want to see them. 

After a while, Tseng stopped crying and Vincent dried his face with a handkerchief he borrowed from Rufus. He kissed Tseng’s eyelids and cheeks before speaking.

“Do you need to take some personal time, _itoshii_?”

Tseng shook his head almost immediately. He knew the offer was sincere and that Rufus would back it up but he didn’t want his personal life to get in the way of work—it never had and he wasn’t about to let it do so now. Especially not when he knew that going to Wutai so soon after his father’s diagnosis would be a waste of time and effort. If his parents were to come around and allow him to visit them they would need time to let the implications of his father’s condition sink in. 

“All right,” Vincent said. “If you change your mind, let us know. We’ll take care of everything.”

“At least take the rest of the day off,” Rufus said in a tone that made it clear that it wasn’t the first time he was suggesting it. “Rude can cover for you.”

Again, Tseng shook his head. “I don’t want time to think about it over and over, Rufus. I need to focus on something else.”

Rufus looked ready to protest but one look from Vincent told him it would be best to drop the subject. With a small sigh, the blond nodded. 

“Is there anything you need right now?” Vincent asked.

Tseng shrugged and snuggled closer to Vincent. “Not being alone, I guess. I don’t want you to cancel your lunch with Sephiroth, though.”

“I would, for any of you, if I thought it was necessary. But I know I can leave you in Rufus and Reno’s hands for the time being. I can stay with you tonight if you like, though.”

The Wutain sighed softly and nodded, closing his eyes for a moment. 

When Vincent’s watch beeped a few minutes later, everyone checked the time: ten ’til two. Tseng kissed Vincent’s lips briefly before standing up and smoothing over his uniform; right after, Reno placed a loud, sort of wet smooch on the gunman’s cheek before jumping off the couch with a cheeky grin and going back to the desk to finish sorting through the food. Rufus grinned as Vincent cleaned his face with the handkerchief and leaned in to kiss Vincent full on the lips. Initially, all he wanted to do was catch Vincent off guard (which he did), but halfway through it he decided that it had been too long since the last time he’d properly kissed the Head Turk so he went ahead and did just that. By the time he pulled back, both of them were blushing and panting softly.

Rufus was also feeling quite aroused but, given the circumstances, he decided to stand up and go help Reno before things got out of hand.

He’d barely made it to the desk when he felt strong arms wrap around his waist and chest from behind, pulling him towards a tall, warm frame; almost at the same time, warm breath tickled his ear, making him blush as a decidedly needy groan made it past his lips. 

“That was very naughty of you, Kinnoki. We’ll have words later, _sir_.”

Rufus shuddered, half because of Vincent’s implication—or promise—and half because of the sudden loss of contact with the taller man’s warm body. When he turned around to reply, he found the gunman talking softly to Tseng, blush gone and the very picture of composure. The only hint that the exchange had even taken place was the Wutain’s amused little smirk aimed Rufus’s way. When he turned to Reno, the redhead winked and stuck his tongue out at him before resuming his task. Shaking his head slightly to clear it, Rufus did his best to focus on the task at hand.

When Reno finished sorting the food, he took what he, Rufus, and Tseng would be having out to the lounge while the rest cleared Vincent’s desk and laid out the food on it. Reno had been thorough on his task and bought a sampler with things Sephiroth might like plus Vincent’s favourites, including dessert. When they were done setting everything, the desk looked more like a small buffet than anything else and the office smell pleasantly like a Wutain restaurant. 

The scent, plus the bamboo mats and chopsticks Vincent brought out, reminded Tseng of his mother and grandmother’s cooking, bringing new tears to his eyes. He blinked them back quickly but Vincent noticed. He wrapped an arm around Tseng’s shoulders and held him close, whispering something in Wutain against his hair. Tseng smiled and nodded, resting his head against the gunman’s shoulder. 

Rufus looked at the pair with a small smile and was about to say something when a knock came on the door, immediately followed by Reno’s head peeking through the door with an amused smile.

“General Faremis here to see you, Director.”

Vincent tensed a little and it was Tseng’s turn to reassure him. He took the gunman’s free hand in his and squeezed it, looking him in the eyes and nodding firmly. Rufus patted him on the shoulder and nodded, too. Vincent returned the nod and Rufus and Tseng left the office, leaving Reno at the door. 

“Give me a moment, Reno.”

“You got it.”

As soon as the door closed, Vincent sighed and called Galian.

_I am awake, Host._

_Good. If you feel anything strange, let me know right away, please._

A nod was all his answer and he went to the door. Any nervousness he felt before had been pushed aside in favour of making sure Tseng was all right but now that his attention was focused back on Sephiroth and the importance of this one lunch meeting, he felt his stomach doing some pretty creative things with itself. 

He was so distracted that he almost forgot about his gloves—he’d taken them off when he was setting the table and left them in his jacket’s pocket. Looking at his left hand or, more precisely, to the scars on the back of it, he hesitated for a moment. The Turks and Rufus were used to his scars by now and never commented on them, only paying them any sort of attention whenever they were intimate with him. Other than Gast, Ifalna, and doubtlessly some of the Science Department’s staff, no one else had ever seen them as he always wore long-sleeved shirts and gloves. He had promised himself to be as open with Sephiroth as he could but he wasn’t sure whether or not that should include his scars. More precisely, he wasn’t sure he was ready to field any questions the younger man might have about them.

After agonising over it for a few minutes, he put his gloves back on. Just because he wanted his relationship with Sephiroth to go way beyond friendship that didn’t mean he had to expose himself all at once. Treating him like he did any other Shinra employee during working hours was, in his mind and for the time being, the best course of action.

Taking a deep breath, his hand reached for the doorknob. After exhaling, he opened the door and did his best to smile. He felt himself falter a little as his eyes fell on Sephiroth standing next to a still amused Reno, but the glint in the redhead’s aquamarine eyes made him feel a little better. The fact that Sephiroth seemed at ease was also reassuring, although one never knew when Reno was even peripherally involved. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting, General.”

The second those green feline eyes were on him Vincent felt a lump on his throat that had little to do with nervousness and far more in common with Rufus’s earlier kiss. After quickly checking with Galian he was both relieved and slightly taken aback to find that it had nothing to do with the Cetran guard, which meant it was all him. Tseng’s words came back to him then and he had to bite his cheek to keep himself from grunting. 

Sephiroth gave him a curious look before replying. The intensity behind it, plus the realisation that the General was looking at him inattentively enough to notice his minor fumble, made Vincent reel in his flailing thoughts and emotions before he could make a fool of himself.

“Not at all, Director. Reno was just updating me on Elena’s condition.”

“I should be going, though,” Reno said. “Don’t want Rufus and Tseng to start eating without me or your food to get cold.” 

He saluted both men, throwing a not so inconspicuous wink Vincent’s way before heading over to the lounge. Vincent watched him go with a small glare but quickly returned his attention to Sephiroth, inviting him to come into his office. It wasn’t until they were both inside that he noticed the bag in Sephiroth’s hands. When he brought it up, the swordsman’s shoulders tensed and the faintest of blushes coloured his pale cheeks as he silently handed the bag to Vincent. 

The Turk’s eyes moved from the bag to the General a few times before he looked inside. His eyes grew a touch wider and a smile tugged at his lips when he saw the box of truffles inside. It took him a moment to realise the bag’s colour matched Sephiroth’s eyes but decided not to comment on it. He was still trying to find a way to word his thanks when Sephiroth’s voice cut off his train of thought. 

“Strife said you really liked them and I didn’t want to arrive empty handed, so…”

He trailed of with a shrug, not quite knowing how to go on without going into a mindless rant. The smile on Vincent’s face eased off some of his worry, though, allowing him to relax. 

“I do, thank you. I hope you didn’t go through any trouble to get them, though.”

Vincent motioned for Sephiroth to follow him to the desk and the silver-haired man debated whether or not to mention Cloud had ended up going to the store while he was stuck listening to Lazard complain about misuse of the VR chamber. In the end, he didn’t feel right taking credit for something he didn’t do so he just told Vincent that he’d had to ask Cloud to get the candy because he’d been caught in a last minute meeting.

“I’m afraid I had to delegate, too,” Vincent confessed. “Captain Highwind ambushed me this morning and I had to ask Reno to buy lunch for us. He brought a little bit of everything so feel free to pick anything you like.”

Sephiroth nodded and took his gloves off. He then realised Vincent was saying grace so he closed his eyes and bowed his head while the older man recited the words. He expected him to take his gloves off when he finished but the gunman simply opened his bowl of soup and started eating. It was then that he remembered that Vincent had been wearing his gloves during their dinner at Seventh Heaven and every other time he’d seen him, actually. Before he could stop himself, he asked about it. The hesitant look in the gunman’s eyes made him instantly regret it but he was glad to receive an answer.

“A habit that turned into personal preference, is all.”

Sephiroth nodded slowly and Vincent was relieved that he wasn’t pressing the matter. He hadn’t told him a lie, just a half truth, but he had hoped the General wouldn’t notice the gloves. Wishful thinking, given the man’s uncanny perception, but still.

Sephiroth dropped the subject almost at once as he looked at the small plates around the desk. He had to ask Vincent about what most of them were but he didn’t feel like he was annoying or inconveniencing the older man in any way. On the contrary, the gunman seemed happy and even delighted to answer all his questions; he also encouraged him to try those dishes that didn’t sound too appetising. Vincent also shared some of his ginger and coriander noodle soup with him and smiled brightly when he hummed in appreciation of the warm feeling the soup gave him. 

“It’s my favourite,” Vincent said. “It brings back very vivid and pleasant memories of my mother.”

“I remember Tseng mentioning his grandmother taught him how to cook. Did your mother teach you?”

The mention of Tseng’s family made Vincent pause while he was biting on a pork dumpling. Knowing Tseng wouldn’t want anyone other than Rufus and the Turks to hear about it, he passed it off as the morsel being too hot. 

“She tried, but I wasn’t very good at it. I only know how to make a passable Wutain breakfast and some simple things like buns and dumplings. I tried really hard to learn how to make this soup and ramen but I failed spectacularly. Veld used to tease me, saying I could make even instant noodles taste like rations.”

Sephiroth half laughed and half coughed on his fist. “My sister says I could burn water,” he said amidst breaths of laughter. 

Vincent joined in, shaking his head. “That’s what takeout and friends who can cook are for.”

“And family. Father really lucked out with Mother, as Zack did with Aerith. I’m lucky my metabolism is really fast, otherwise I would’ve put on several pounds these past few days I’ve been back at my parents’.”

Deciding to leave his own accelerated metabolism aside, Vincent asked if Sephiroth was planning on moving back to headquarters anytime soon.

“Well… That’s up to you, Vincent. Rather, up to Galian.”

 _Wrong choice of words ,_ Galian growled. _If it_ were _up to me—_

_Easy there._

“Vincent?”

The gunman blinked slowly and smiled apologetically. 

“Just checking in with Galian. It seems like your mother’s instructions are holding so I think it’s safe for us to be working together from now on. That also means that you can move back here whenever you like.”

Sephiroth nodded slowly while he chewed on bit of salmon tempura. He watched as Vincent finished his soup and the last few vegetables in tempura, leaving the salmon and a couple of dumplings for him. 

The truth was he wouldn’t mind staying with his family for a few more days. He had missed his mother and sister’s cooking as well as the peace and quiet he rarely found in headquarters. On the other hand, he missed being able to visit with Angeal and Genesis virtually at any time or going to the gym in the middle of the night to practice in solitude. There were decided advantages to both living arrangements and, even though he had been anxious to move back to HQ at first, now he was of two minds about it. 

As if sensing this, Vincent said, “I imagine Lazard might want you to move back as soon as possible, though. There is still much to be done regarding the summit, not to mention the security plan for Midgar during it.”

That reminded Sephiroth of something he had been thinking for some days.

“Are you sure you want me to stay in Midgar instead of attending the summit as Soldier’s representative?”

The question caught Vincent off guard. The final lineup had already been cleared with Lazard and the Director of Soldier hadn’t mentioned any objections. Rufus had also approved of it and all that was left was to confirm it with the rest of the departments on Wednesday’s board meeting. 

“It’s for the best,” Vincent added. “Having five Soldier Firsts here will help you optimise the rest of the army in case of an attack. Modeoheim is much easier to defend so bringing you or one of the Commanders with us would be a misuse of our limited resources.”

“I was supposed to go, though,” Sephiroth pressed. “Given the circumstances at the time, I understand the need to schedule Zack, instead. Now that those circumstances have been overcome, I don’t understand why I have to stay behind.”

“New circumstances have emerged. You’ll be far more helpful here, Sephiroth.”

Vincent started clearing the desk to bring out dessert. Sephiroth helped and was about to press the matter when he noticed Vincent’s eyes flashed orange a few times. He pursed his lips and continued to help in silence until Vincent brought out two small containers from a cold bag. After inspecting the labels, he passed one of them to Sephiroth along with a spoon.

“Black tea and orange ice cream,” he explained. “It’s not too sweet but very good.”

Sephiroth nodded and looked at Vincent’s container. The ice cream inside was a dark shade of pink with black and brown bits of something he couldn’t identify.

“Black cherry ice cream with chocolate and cherry chunks. Extremely sweet, but you’re welcome to try it.”

Sephiroth did and while he admitted that it tasted good, it was entirely too sweet for his tastes so he stuck to his. Like Vincent had said, it wasn’t too sweet but he found it very enjoyable; he particularly liked the refreshing aftertaste of orange. 

“I know you’re worried about your family,” Vincent said after a long silence, “but that is precisely why Genesis was our first choice back when Avalanche wasn’t part of the summit’s equation. Sending you or Zack is a huge conflict of interests and we can’t afford any mistakes. You both became an option only because of Genesis’s condition—and then my own—but now that new elements have to be factored in, we need to rethink our whole strategy. That’s why appointing two new Soldiers First Class and taking one of them with us while leaving the other five behind to protect the city is the new plan.”

Sephiroth set his ice cream on the desk and crossed his arms. He noticed Vincent tensing up and hesitate between putting his bowl down or continue eating. In the end, the gunman sighed softly and kept on eating, albeit a bit slower than before, and avoided eye contact with him. Sephiroth let it slide while he tried to put order into this thoughts. 

Lazard and Vincent, with Rufus’s approval, had decided to send Cloud to the summit. There had been a minor debate because Cloud’s mako-tinted eyes could give the impression that Shinra was still using mako to enhance its army. However, that wasn’t the blond’s case—he had been thrown into a mako fountain by some bullies as a kid and fallen into a mako poisoning coma for several weeks, giving his eyes the same glow as a Soldier’s. The incident had made him the ideal candidate for the program and a headhunter had brought him to Midgar as soon as he was old enough to join. 

It had been Kunsel’s recent stay at the med wing that drove Lazard to choose Cloud as his representative. While the blond’s strategy-oriented personality might have been more advantageous in Midgar, he would be more useful in Modeoheim as a backup for the Turks given that he was completely clear for active duty. Kunsel, on the other hand, would make a good intelligence coordinator if a raid on Midgar were to occur, keeping him away from the fray in case his physical condition were not at its best.

The logic behind the decision was sound, Sephiroth knew, but it still didn’t sit well with him to be left behind while his family was away on a summit that had recently been marked as a target for Avalanche’s twisted schemes. He wanted to be close by to protect them, yes, but that didn’t mean his judgement would be impaired if they were involved. Zack had voiced a similar opinion at one point but he’d also expressed relief when he learned that Cloud had been assigned to the summit detail. Sephiroth hadn’t, and even though he’d said it was because of Cloud’s lack of experience, he knew there was more to it than just that. It was that irrational sense of jealousy that drove much of his displeasure towards the final lineup for the summit. 

The feeling had somewhat lessened during the day, though. The fact that Cloud had been so willing to answer his questions about Vincent, not to mention accommodating enough to run the errand for him and keep it a secret from the other Firsts, had assuaged most of his misgivings. Irrationality is called so for a reason, though, and he was a long way from not feeling jealous and even threatened by Cloud’s relationship to Vincent. 

There was no way he could say any of that to the Head Turk, though. He sighed and picked up his ice cream again, doing his best to enjoy it and to not ruin lunch for Vincent.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a while. “I know it probably wasn’t an easy decision to make but I also know that it was probably the best one. I just…”

“I understand. I would have cancelled the summit but it sends the wrong message. We just need to do the best we can with what we have.”

Sephiroth nodded and tried to find something else to talk about. It was nearly three and he had to make up for missing his rounds at the barracks that morning but he didn’t want his second real conversation with Vincent to end on such a grim note. His impending headache at the hands of irresponsible cadets gave him an idea.

“Are you free this evening, Vincent?”

Vincent paused with his last spoonful of ice cream still in his mouth. As he mulled over the question, taking into account his assurance to Tseng and his promise to Rufus, he slowly cleaned the spoon with his tongue, inadvertently giving Sephiroth quite a show. When he finally pulled the spoon out of his mouth and tossed it inside the empty container, he noticed the General shifting on his seat while a faint blush coloured his cheeks again. Finally realising what had happened, he blushed, too, and cleared his throat. 

“There are a few things I need to review with Tseng and the President but, depending on what you have in mind, I can work around that.”

“I was just wondering if you’d like to attend the self-defence course Zack and Cloud are offering. There are more employees interested in it than Lazard had anticipated so he’s asked Angeal and I to help, amongst others. I think there was mention of Cloud’s girlfriend, too.”

“Tifa is a martial arts specialist,” Vincent said with a nod. 

“We’re all supposed to help with some demonstrations but there might not be enough instructors available.”

Actually, Sephiroth hadn’t been asked to participate so much as ordered by Lazard as part of his punishment for hijacking the VR chamber and attracting such a large crowd that productivity levels pretty much dropped to zero for nearly an hour. Zack was already involved with the course so his sanction would be different, but Angeal had been ordered to attend, too. Genesis was the only one spared as he’d been in his office catching up with paperwork instead of adding to the mayhem caused by his lover and his best friend. 

Vincent nodded, thinking it a good opportunity to help Tseng keep his mind off his family. He agreed to go and volunteered some of the Turks to help with individual practice, something Sephiroth was grateful for since it minimised the possibility of him having to spar with some witless accountant or secretary. Still, with his luck, he’d end up paired with Director Tuesti or someone equally out of shape. At least Heidegger and Palmer were locked up and wouldn’t make an unwanted appearance. 

Sephiroth had just finished his ice cream when Vincent’s phone beeped to remind him he had a meeting with Elena, Cissnei, and Kunsel to check on the status of the Avalanche data analysis. With Sephiroth’s help, he cleared his desk and restored it to its usual layout. When they were done, he walked Sephiroth to the door. Once outside, he shook hands with him, realising it was the first time he had any sort of physical contact with him and wishing he’d kept his gloves off. Still, his fingers tingled where they met Sephiroth’s still bared skin and he felt a pleasant warmth radiate from them to the rest of his body. 

Sephiroth felt a pleasant shudder run up his arms when Vincent’s fingers brushed the back of his hand. The contact felt good and he regretted having to end it. 

“I’ll see you at eight at the common gym, then,” he reminded Vincent.

“We’ll be there,” Vincent confirmed.

With that, Sephiroth waved goodbye and got into one of the elevators. As if on cue, Reno, Tseng, and Rufus came out of the lounge just as Vincent was about to go to the restroom to wash up. 

“So? What’s the verdict, yo?” 

Vincent’s eyes flashed orange and he chuckled. 

“Let’s just say that if Galian flips out and attacks Sephiroth it won’t have anything to do with his hormones.”

Rufus frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I guess Gali doesn’t like Seph, huh?”

Vincent shook his head. “Clashing personalities, unfortunately. But at least I don’t have to worry about Galian trying to take over my body to maul Sephiroth.”

“That’s good,” Tseng said. “It will make the next few weeks a lot easier.”

“Yeah. By the way, I volunteered us to help at Cloud and Zack’s self-defence class this evening. We’re supposed to be at the gym at eight.”

Reno groaned. “Why, Bossman?”

“They need our help. Plus, it’s our responsibility as the Security Department to make sure that as many people as possible can defend themselves in case of an attack.”

The redhead groaned again and Tseng and Rufus laughed. Vincent joined them for a moment before washing up and heading to the med wing.

* * *

The common gym was located on the twentieth floor and was one of the few areas in the building to which employees from all levels and departments had access. However, given that Soldier and the Turks each had their own gym, plus Soldier’s VR chamber and the Turks’ shooting range and track field, it was rarely visited. Housekeeping kept it in optimal conditions, though, and Cloud had taken the time to make sure that it was properly stocked for the week-long course. He wouldn’t have managed it without Genesis running constant interference with Zack and Angeal, who were incredibly persistent in their quest to find what Sephiroth was up to regarding Vincent. 

Shaking his head, Cloud drove that thought away and focused on aligning the mats so no one would trip on uneven edges. When he looked up, he found Tifa by the weapons rack, checking out the different items there. A small smile tugged at his lips as she tried to pick up a wooden broadsword only to find it too unwieldy. After putting it back in the rack, her hands went for something far more familiar: brass knuckledusters. She smiled and put them on as she walked towards the punching bags. She swung one and started punching a familiar pattern on it, bringing her legs into play to keep the heavy sack dancing around. A particularly strong kick made the chains rattle and strain, making Cloud worry for a second that Tifa might have broken them. When the bag swung back heavily towards her, she simply grabbed it with both hands and steadied it until it wasn’t moving anymore. She looked terribly pleased with herself and Cloud couldn’t help but chuckle. He’d definitely have to find time to spar with her more often.

He tore his eyes away from his girlfriend and continued with the mats. He was about done when he saw the Turks come in, missing Elena but with President Shinra in tow. All of the Turks were still in their uniforms but Rufus had traded his three-piece for a track suit—rather a stylish one, at that, but he _was_ the President and he was known throughout Midgar and the world as an enthusiastic fashionista. That apparently extended to workouts but Cloud wasn’t about to complain. The fact that the man had decided to show up at a self-defence course with his employees rather than getting private lessons from the Turks or just trusting them to protect him would be a huge morale boost for all attendees. 

He lined up the last mat and went over to them, shaking their hands and thanking them for coming. He then introduced Tifa to Rufus and started more or less gushing about her credentials, making her blush. She turned beet red when Rufus decided to turn on the charm.

“Thank you very much for assisting us with the course, Ms. Lockhart. We’re all very lucky that Cloud has such a beautiful and accomplished martial artist at his side.”

“Thank you, Mr. President,” she managed.

“Just call me Rufus.”

“Can I just call you Rufus, too?” Cloud asked, trying to make Tifa relax by showing her she didn’t need to be too formal.

“Of course not, Strife. You’re nowhere near as cute as your lovely girlfriend so that’s ‘sir’ for you, Second Lieutenant.”

Cloud sighed dramatically and crossed his arms. “Such demanding standards, sir.”

Tifa looked between them for a moment and then stole a quick glance towards Vincent. The gunman gave her a small smile and shrugged as if to say ‘kids, right?’ Finally catching on to the kind of relationship Rufus seemed to have with his employees—at least with the ones currently present—she smiled and hugged Cloud’s arm. 

“I think he’s cute enough.”

Cloud looked at her and huffed. “What’s with the ‘cute’, all of a sudden? I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“You’re still cute as a button,” Cissnei offered.

“It’s a blond thing, yo.”

“Indeed. Lazard is very cute,” Rude said.

“Not as cute as the President, though. He’s almost cloyingly cute,” Tseng added.

That made Rufus blush and turn around to look at the Turks. 

“Now wait just a minute!”

Everyone started laughing and Rufus eventually joined in. Soon after, people started coming into the gym and Tifa excused herself when she saw someone she recognised amidst the growing crowd. Cloud watched her trot away for a moment before turning to Rufus and the Turks with a small smile.

“Thanks for that, everyone. She was nervous about tonight but I think you’ve made her feel welcome.”

“Any time, Cloud. Now, care to tell us what the program will be like and what we can do to help?” Vincent asked.

The blond nodded and told them that they would start with a warm up before dividing the attendees by their self-defence experience. He expected most of them to be entire novices but said he wouldn’t be surprised if a few of them had at least some basic notions about it. Once divided, they would be assigned to an instructor and taught moves ranging from simply fending off an attacker in order to escape to incapacitating them, if at all possible. 

“I was thinking that we could just focus on hand to hand combat from here ’til Thursday, leaving weapons for Friday. I don’t think a lot of people will return for that so it’s best to give hand to hand more emphasis.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Tseng said. “Are you leaving the specifics up to the instructors?”

Cloud nodded. “Yeah. I mean, we all went through more or less the same basic training, so…”

As Cloud explained further what he was expecting of them, Vincent looked at Tseng and felt relieved. He’d been gloomy on the way over and Vincent was afraid it wouldn’t let him participate fully. Seeing him discuss moves and terms with Cloud and the rest in such an attentive way led him to make a note of asking Cloud to get Tseng more involved in the following lessons. Like Tseng, he thought it would be best if he kept busy in order to avoid thinking too much about his parents.  

Halfway through the blond’s explanation, Lazard came in followed by Sephiroth, Angeal, Zack, and even Genesis. All of them had changed from their usual attires into camouflaged or olive drab fatigues and combat boots; Sephiroth had even tied his hair back in a braid to keep it mostly out of the way. They all carried their trademark weapons but left them by the weapons rack before walking over to Cloud and the rest. Tifa returned about then and everyone turned expectantly to Cloud, even Zack. 

“I’m just here as your supervisor, Cloud. This show’s all yours,” he explained.

To his credit, that didn’t make Cloud any more nervous than he already was. After relying his plan to everyone, he asked Sephiroth to call everyone to attention—the General knew how to project his voice and was, perhaps after Rufus, the most respected man in the room. 

It worked like a charm: at once, the chatter died down and all attendees moved around until they were standing in several rows. Amongst the crowd were Cid Highwind, Reeve Tuesti, and Shalua Rui; Rufus and Lazard had also gone to stand with the rest, having little to no combat experience. 

Sephiroth had tried to get his family involved but Gast was busy trying to find a way to stabilise Galian’s hormones and Aerith and his mother claimed that they had all the protection they could need in the form of Sephiroth and Zack. When he reminded them that neither of them would be attending the summit, they said the Turks would take care of them. Once it became clear that he wouldn’t be winning the argument, he decided to drop it. He did make a mental note to ask which of the Turks would be assigned to his family so he could talk to them personally about their safety. 

After a twenty-minute warm up, Cloud asked everyone to split into two groups according to their self-defence experience: novices and those with some hands-on experience. Over 90% of the attendees moved towards the left side of the room, where the novices were asked to stand. Realising he had grossly miscalculated matters—he had expected at least a third of those in attendance to have some experience—, Cloud decided to split the novices into eleven groups into which he added the employees with some experience as evenly as possible. That way the instructors would have at least a couple of people that could help them with demonstrations. 

Luckily for Sephiroth, Reeve didn’t end up in his group but on Vincent’s, which was lucky for the R&D Director because Vincent was one of the most accommodating instructors. Also, unlike Reno, he didn’t turn everything into a joke, relying on patience rather than humour to keep his trainees at ease. He was also generous with praise, making sure to congratulate everyone when they were able to properly block a punch or kick, or when they managed to bring their opponent down on the mat. 

When Reeve managed to trip _him_ and pin him down right after, Vincent found himself smiling and patting Reeve on the back. The bookish executive blushed and scratched the back of his head even as Vincent moved on to the next participant to try to get them to do the same. As Reeve refocused on the goings-on of his circle, he caught Sephiroth eyeing him warily. The intensity behind the gaze made him turn back quickly to Vincent’s next instruction but he could’ve sworn he felt the General’s burning gaze on his neck for a few minutes after.

About an hour into the training session, Cloud called for a break and called all the instructors to a corner of the room to exchange impressions and ideas for the second part of the meeting. He was discussing the best way to approach disarming when Rufus and Lazard walked over. 

Reno was the first to spot them and he immediately raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re about to ask something really iffy, sirs?”

Rufus broke into a grin while Lazard tried his best not to smirk. They looked at each other for a moment until Lazard nodded, silently giving Rufus the reins of whatever was about to happen. That alone set everyone but Tifa on a kind of mild edge. It wasn’t that Rufus and Lazard didn’t get along, more like they rarely had occasion to agree on something given that they kept their work mostly separate. For them to come up with something together was rare and potentially inconvenient for their employees. 

“Given that, save two exceptions, all the Turks and all the Soldier Firsts are here, we were wondering if you’d mind a joint demonstration,” Rufus said.

“What kind of demonstration?” Sephiroth asked, the faint narrowing of his eyes warning his superiors to thread lightly.

“Just some sparring matches, Turks versus Soldier,” Lazard explained. “Only a few minutes each to demonstrate how an actual encounter might go.”

“So this is for the benefit of the attendees?” Vincent asked, already knowing whatever answer the blonds came up with would be at least a partial lie.

“Of course,” Rufus said, grin widening. 

“This has nothing to do with some sort of fraternal rivalry? Like whose elite team is superior or anything like that?” Tseng asked.

“Not in the slightest,” they answered at the same time.

“Oi, oi, that’s scary, yo.”

“Blood will out,” Genesis murmured. When both Lazard and Rufus gave him a narrow-eyed glare, he shrugged as if to say they’d just proven him right.

Letting it slide, the President and Soldier’s Director turned to Vincent and Sephiroth, knowing they would have the final say in the matter. The gunman and the swordsman looked at each other for a moment before shrugging and sighing, respectively. 

“Wonderful,” Rufus said, as if their reactions were a standard affirmative.

Before anyone had a chance to think about it twice, Lazard announced the pairings he and his brother had decided on even before asking those involved for permission: Zack v Reno, Angeal v Rude, Genesis v Tseng, Cloud v Cissnei, and, rather unsurprisingly, Sephiroth v Vincent.

When the change in schedule was announced and the matches presented, an excited buzz filled the gym. A few minutes later, the crowd had increased as attendees called or sent text messages to their friends to brag or invite them over. Rufus and Lazard looked at their employees with self-satisfied grins that did nothing to make them fell less like well advertised merchandise. The only thing they could do to feel better about the whole deal was to avoid claiming winners after each match and keeping the fighting to an exhibition level. 

Zack and Reno agreed not to use weapons and stick to hand to hand combat in an effort to adhere to the course’s theme. Their combat was swift and very fluid, each excelling at reading their opponent to anticipate his next move and plan accordingly. Reno had a slight advantage over Zack, being shorter and of a much slimmer build; he kept Zack on the defensive for most of the agreed-to five minutes and landed several kicks and punches to the Soldier’s torso and thighs, receiving only two punches himself.

Angeal also agreed not to use his Buster Sword given that Rude was a mixed martial arts specialist. Their fight wasn’t as fast as the previous one but there were far more punches and kicks in it, most of which were expertly blocked and deflected. Even though there was an agreement not to use full force during the fight, the few hits that managed to properly connect resounded throughout the gym, making several of the spectators exclaim worriedly. The rest of the instructors, however, watched fascinated as the two men at the front dealt and took damage without so much as wincing. 

Tseng agreed to a handicap in deference to Genesis’s still healing status. He chose a katana from the weapons rack with a similar range to the Commander’s Rapier and, after a few experimental swings, approached him to start the battle. 

It was the first time since receiving the compound to fix his degradation that Genesis had been in anything close to an actual battle. Through the warm up and training exercises, he’d felt a great improvement on his body’s response to the commands he was giving it, lifting his spirits. Now that he was sparring with Tseng, who handled the practice katana with amazing ease, he felt truly exhilarated for the first time in weeks, so much that he didn’t mind the few times the Wutain managed to tap his arms or neck with the blunt edge of his sword. Genesis welcomed the challenge and met Tseng blow for blow, landing quite a few hits of his own. 

He was so happy when the match ended that he bowed deeply at the waist, thanking Tseng in perfect Wutain. The gesture brought a smile to Tseng’s face and, by extension, to all the Turks.

Cloud and Cissnei followed the format of the first two matches and fought hand to hand. There were some exclamations from the crowd for Cloud not to go easy on Cissnei because she was a girl, and for Cissnei to take it easy on Cloud because his girlfriend was in the room. They playfully rolled their eyes and decided to otherwise ignore the teasing, focusing instead on the match. 

Cloud was able to use what he’d learned by sparring with Tifa against Cissnei, like taking advantage of their similar height when he would usually have to compensate for being shorter than his opponents. Cissnei, on the other hand, was used to practicing with Reno, which meant she had to be faster than her adversary if she wanted to land a hit before receiving one. Thus, their fight looked a lot like Zack and Reno’s, except with more feints and fancier footwork. There was also a lot more cheering coming from Tifa and, hating to be outdone, Reno. 

When the turn finally came for Vincent and Sephiroth to face each other, they went to a corner of the gym to discuss the terms of the engagement.

“Would you mind us fighting hand to hand, too?” Vincent asked.

“I haven’t tried that in a while but it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just that, much to the dismay of my mother’s side of the family, I was not built to wield blades longer than a kitchen knife.”

“Are you saying I was?” Sephiroth deadpanned.

Vincent’s eyes grew wide and he fumbled for a few seconds before realising Sephiroth was smiling. Sighing in relief, the gunman punched him lightly on the shoulder.

“You’re as bad as Reno, General.”

“I suppose I’ll have to stop hanging around Zack so much, since that’s who I seem to be getting it from.”

Shaking his head but smiling, Vincent led the way to the front of the gym. He had already taken off his jacket and tie at the beginning of the session but he made sure his shirt was tucked in correctly and that his sleeve’s cuffs were buttoned tightly. Sephiroth noticed as he quickly redid his braid but had little time to dwell on it as Vincent was on him in a second. He barely dodged the punch but was unable to completely slide out of the way, feeling the partial impact on his shoulder all the way down to his left hand. Vincent skipped back after recovering, giving Sephiroth a look that told him to stop daydreaming and get himself into the fight immediately or he’d be spending the rest of the night tending bruises. 

After shaking his arm, Sephiroth decided to just go for it. Like he’d told Vincent, it had been a while since the last time he fought anyone without Masamune or materia at his side, so he started out a little sluggish. The gunman noticed but decided not to extend to the General the same courtesy Tseng had shown Genesis earlier, instead pressing him until the swordsman found himself mostly defending, just like Zack had been with Reno. Except Vincent was much faster than Reno and his punches and kicks, although certainly not full-strength, left Sephiroth reeling whenever he failed to block them or at least dance out of the way in time. 

The allotted time was about to run out when Sephiroth tried to use Vincent’s momentum to throw him to the mat. However, in a blur of movement, Vincent twisted out of Sephiroth’s intended hold and he wound up on the floor, flat on his stomach with his left arm tugged back and up and the gunman’s foot on the small of his back, pinning him down. 

“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you subdue your opponent in two easy steps. But more on that tomorrow night—I believe we’ve kept you long enough for today.”

Vincent released Sephiroth and helped him up as everyone broke into applause and Cloud stepped up to thank everyone for attending and remind them of the following day’s session. It took a while for the gym to empty given that a lot of people had questions for the instructors and some took the opportunity to request autographs from the Soldiers First. Once they had fielded all the questions posed to them, the Turks quietly slipped towards a corner and discussed the night’s events with Rufus while the Soldiers continued to patiently cater to their fans. 

When the last starry-eyed employees left, the Soldiers, Lazard, and Tifa joined the Turks.

“Thank you all for helping out tonight,” Cloud said. “I know you’re probably busy but it’d be great if you could help out the rest of the week.”

“Rufus will be attending so you can count me in,” Tseng said. 

“I’m game as long as we don’t get dragged into another exhibition match, yo.”

“I wouldn’t mind a chance to spar with Tseng again,” Genesis said with a hopeful smile.

“I take it the treatment continues to agree with you, then?” Vincent asked.

The Commander nodded. “Yes. I truly haven’t felt this strong in… Well, it’s been so long I can’t even remember now.”

In the end, everyone confirmed they’d be able to help Cloud for the remainder of the week, which brought a relieved smile to the blond’s face. He excused himself to take Tifa home and little by little the group broke until it was just Sephiroth, Vincent, Tseng, and Rufus left. 

“I think I’ll have to ask you to coach me in hand to hand, Vincent. I was seriously outmatched back there.”

“Perhaps you should’ve asked for a handicap, Seph,” Tseng teased.

“I don’t think it would’ve made much of a difference, to be honest. I’ll improve, though, and then I’ll ask for a rematch.”

Vincent was about to say there couldn’t be a rematch when they’d agreed not to declare a winner, but Rufus beat him and roped both swordsman and gunman to into having a proper match in front of the whole company sometime in the future. Before anyone could protest, Rufus excused himself and the Turks and led them to the elevator bank. 

Tseng was trying very hard not to laugh while Vincent bit his tongue until they were inside the elevator and Rufus had selected the Turks’s floor. After entering a code that would prevent anyone from calling their cart until it reached their destination, Vincent backed Rufus against a wall and pinned him there by his wrists. 

“You’ve been quite insolent today, _shachō_.”

“Have I, now?” Rufus’s voice trailed off into a moan when Vincent’s lips went straight to his throat. “I didn’t quite notice th— _ahn_!”

Vincent bit on his collarbone, sucking loud and hard before letting go and brushing his lips against the blond’s.

“Indeed. First you rile me up at my office before Sephiroth comes in… Then you make me spar with him… And _then_ you set up another public exhibition match between us… Isn’t that quite naughty, Corvus?”

He punctuated each phrase with a nip on Rufus’s lower lip, making the younger man shudder and buck against him. Tseng had been entirely too happy to stand back and watch but as soon as he heard his pet name he stepped forward and leaned on the wall next to Rufus, running his hand down the blond’s chest towards his awakening erection.

“Very much so, Vin-sama. I think our beloved _Shiroi Ōji-sama_ is in dire need of a lesson.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Corvus.”

Just then, the elevator dinged and the doors opened on the Turks’s floor. Tseng got out first to open the door to his apartment, closely followed by Vincent, who had an unprotesting Rufus slung over his shoulder. Once inside the apartment, Vincent went straight for the bedroom while Tseng locked up. By the time he made it to his room, the gunman had already tossed the blond on the bed and was busy tearing off his track suit. 

He was halfway done when, without looking up from what he was doing, he said, “Tseng, do you still have your felt-lined handcuffs?”

Two aroused moans filled the room as Vincent pinned an impatient Rufus down while Tseng rushed towards his closet to look for the handcuffs and a few other things he thought Vincent might like using on their boss. Maybe on him, too. 

It was going to be a _long_ night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all… *Bows deeply and repeatedly* I’m so sorry for the horribly long delay! It’s just that I got a job now and the schedule is CRAP. Plus, I’ve been working on non-fan fiction and that’s eaten away at my fanfic writing time, too. I’ve been trying to find a rhythm and balance the last couple of weeks but it’s going to take some fine-tuning, so I hope you’ll all bear with me in the following months!
> 
> The good news in all of this is that this is my third time at this same job, so the training phase of it is particularly light for me, so I’ve outlined most of D&G already—all the way up to chapter 19! So it should be a bit easier to get this bad boy going again—I’ll just need to make the time. 
> 
> Hopefully this chapter will make up a bit for the time you’ve had to wait—it’s the longest so far (over 14K words?? EGAD), and the less dialogue-y, I think. I also explore things from other people’s POV, like Cloud and Reno, which was fun. I wanted to develop Cloud/Tifa a bit more but it was getting too long and I think there’ll be enough time for that in the future. 
> 
> On to other things, I was doing research on military ranks and the likes and I found a slight problem with the terms used by Square-Enix on Crisis Core. As far as I can recall, both Angeal and Genesis are referred to as “commanders”, which appears to be a naval rank. Sephiroth has always been “the general”, which is a rank used in the army, air force, and marine corps. I made Zack a lieutenant because I’ve read other fics where he’s referred as such and it seemed to fit. That term is a bit like general, applying to multiple branches of the military. Given all of this, I should make Angeal and Genesis colonels or lieutenant generals or something, but a) I don’t want to deviate from what SE has established and b) I’m too lazy to figure it out. So, from now on I’m sticking to army ranks for Cloud and the rest and leaving the beautiful mess SE made as is. Hopefully this won’t irk anyone as much as it irks me!
> 
> (Also, if I’m totally wrong feel free to correct me!)
> 
> As usual, comments and likes/kudos/favourites/follows are incredibly welcome and appreciated! 
> 
> *Goes off to write the next chapter before rotten tomatoes start flying about*


	13. (Un)Disclosed Desires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth takes every chance he gets to spend more time with Vincent. When his feelings and desires finally get the better of him, he forces Vincent’s hand and the gunman explains his complicated situation to the swordsman. How will Sephiroth react to the news?

The rest of the week went by in a flurry of activity.  

The board meeting had every director and head of department busy for nearly three hours early on Wednesday. Rufus had already shared his plan to restructure the company with those executives who would be directly impacted by the changes, like Vincent, Lazard, and Cid, but it was news to almost everyone else. All the same, none of the new appointments came as much of a shock. 

The General Affairs Department, which had never truly existed, would officially be transformed into the Internal Security Department, directed by Vincent with Cissnei as Deputy Director. For the time being, there would be no recruiting of new members and security would continue to be staffed by Soldiers Third Class and a few Seconds.

Since this change only affected Shinra internally, it wasn’t part of the official press release sent out to news agencies across Midgar and the world. The renaming of the department was mostly a formality, too, given that everyone already identified the Turks as such and it was unlikely that the monicker would ever go away. 

 Cid would remain as Director of the Space Program and Deputy Director of the Transportation Department until further notice. Rufus’s plan was to find someone to take over the Transportation Department before year’s end so Cid could return his full attention to the space program. Both he and the Captain wanted to build a brand new rocket that could work on clean fuel and send the first manned mission into outer space in the next five years. 

The Weapons Development Department got downgraded to a subdivision of the Research and Development Department and Shalua Rui was named as its manager. The main focus of the department would now be developing weapons for Soldier and the Turks’ use, keeping the patents a company secret to keep their technology from falling into the wrong hands.

Soldier would retain control of Midgar’s Police Department at least until January, when talks with Mayor Domino and Deputy Mayor Hart were scheduled to take place to determine how and when Shinra would detach itself from Midgar’s management and become an entirely private company. Soldier would continue to be Shinra’s private army and taking down Avalanche would still remain one of the company’s main objectives, along with developing clean energy to replace mako and branching out to areas that would further those goals. 

After Shinra’s separation from Midgar, headquarters would remain within the city. Since Junon was already heavily militarised and protected, plus it had fully functioning offices and enough space to house the entire administrative staff and Soldier, Reeve and Lazard suggested moving there to avoid further threats to Midgar. While the proposal wasn’t entirely dismissed, the majority of the board voted not to make such a drastic move right away. For one, moving everyone away from Midgar would be extremely costly, and there was also the fact that a lot of Shinra employees had family in the city and might not be open to relocate permanently to the other side of the continent. 

The last part of the meeting consisted of reviewing the program for the energy summit and organising the company’s chain of command while most of the board was away. Sephiroth, being the highest ranking Soldier, was placed in charge of the army while Genesis took over Internal Security in the Turks’ absence. There was no need for anyone to fill in for Rufus as all major matters could be directly addressed by the heads of department or their deputies while the summit lasted. Any emergencies were to be handled by Soldier and immediately communicated to Rufus and the Turks in Modeoheim. 

The official announcement of all changes to the company’s structure came on Friday, along with the notification of Cloud and Kunsel’s promotion to Second Lieutenants Soldiers First Class. Some Thirds got promoted to Seconds, as well, and assigned to the security detail for the summit and Midgar’s defence. Heidegger, Scarlet, and Palmer were finally listed as traitors and their status as prisoners made public. A brief statement regarding Avalanche’s threats and the capture of one of its leaders accompanied the announcements as a move to reassure all employees and the general public that Shinra was dealing with the terrorist organisation decisively and effectively.

Cloud’s self-defence course went on as scheduled and with a higher rate of success than Lazard and the young Second Lieutenant had anticipated. Cid volunteered as an instructor for the rest of the course and Elena was able to assist on Friday once her cumbersome cast had been exchanged for a far more manageable brace. Kunsel was also present, although only as an observer since he had not been cleared for active duty yet. 

Saturday morning found Vincent and Cissnei in a meeting with Lazard and all Soldiers First Class. Elena and Kunsel had managed to decrypt and analyse over half of the Avalanche data found at the warehouse, along with information obtained from Ginga and the three turncoat executives. After cross-referencing all of that with the Avalanche communications they had managed to infiltrate, the team found that the threat on Midgar was more than likely a bluff to make them split their defences and leave the summit vulnerable to an attack. However, given that Avalanche must have figured out that they had intercepted their documents and transmissions, it could all be a double- or triple-bluff. 

“That’s why we must go forward with our plan as it is now,” Lazard said. “It’s the only way to ensure that no matter where Avalanche strikes, we’ll be ready to counter them and, if possible, weaken them.”

“So be prepared to take prisoners,” Vincent added. “Ginga was only a regional leader so his knowledge of Avalanche’s operations in other areas was rather limited. If you have a chance to capture anyone who seems to be in a leadership position, do so. As soon as the summit is over we’ll start recruiting new Turks so we can expand our surveillance and infiltration activities but, until then, we’ll need to rely on prisoners to gather more intelligence on their organisation.”

The meeting continued with the overview of the defence plan Lazard and Vincent had drawn up. The three senior Firsts had already gone over it and made various annotations and suggestions which were now discussed. Almost three hours later, the strategy had been refined and looked, at least on paper, airtight. 

Rude and Reno would work with the Soldiers assigned to Modeoheim throughout the week to make sure they knew exactly what was expected of them during the summit. Sephiroth and Angeal were left in charge of running drills for all major mobilisations on Monday and Wednesday while Zack and Cloud took over regular drills the rest of the week. Setting up the command centre and making sure all communications between Soldier within the city were secure was left up to Genesis and Kunsel. The detail in charge of keeping an eye on the prisoners during a possible raid to avoid their release by the terrorists was also appointed; it consisted of Luxiere Dorcas, Essai Belcher, and Sebastian Clarke, all of them Soldiers Second Class under Genesis’s command. 

The meeting was adjourned shortly after midday and Vincent was feeling peckish. He turned to ask Cissnei if she wanted to grab an early lunch when she received a call from Rude to help him check on some of the equipment they would need at the summit. Vincent was about to head out on his own when Sephiroth caught up to him in front of the elevators and asked him to lunch.

It was the third time that week that the General approached the Head Turk for lunch. Ever since their successful meeting on Tuesday and their improvised sparring match that same evening, Sephiroth had taken every chance he got to spend time with Vincent. He caught Vincent off guard the first time and the gunman agreed before realising what was going on. When he brought it up to the Turks later that day, they all teased him and encouraged him to accept any other invitations Sephiroth might extend; they also suggested that he should ask the General out sometime but he was still reluctant to take initiative as he still had to struggle with Galian’s misgivings about the swordsman. 

He had talked to the Planet Protector about it a couple of days ago but all Galian had been willing to say was that he didn’t trust Sephiroth not to hurt Vincent. He couldn’t explain why and any attempts at further interrogation ended with the orange-eyed creature falling into moodily silence that left the gunman feeling slightly irritable himself. Chaos had explained that it was a side-effect of having Galian’s hormones still rampant throughout their shared body and that it would be best to leave their roommate alone for the time being. Vincent had grudgingly agreed; he’d grown used to Galian’s companionable presence in the short time since they’d reached a compromise in their living arrangements and having him retreat far into his mind whenever Sephiroth was around or even mentioned made him feel guilty and, odd as it sounded, lonely. 

This time, he did his best to ignore Galian’s huffy retreat and accepted Sephiroth’s invitation to eat at Leviathan’s Scales. Sephiroth had really enjoyed the food and had been waiting for a chance to visit the place and look at the full menu. He’d wanted to go with Vincent, though, so when he went out for lunch with Genesis and Angeal on Friday, he made it a point to suggest someplace else when Genesis mentioned being in the mood for Wutain food. He didn’t miss the knowing look his friend shot his way but he did do his best to ignore what it could mean, given that it was the kind of look that the auburn-haired Commander got when he was planning something devious and Sephiroth hated feeling like he was the target of such machinations. 

At the restaurant, Sephiroth was intrigued by the _kaiten_ sushi bar but one look at the crowd gathered at the counter made him ask for a patio table when the waiter came over and offered to seat them at the bar. The waiter insisted but Sephiroth politely declined and asked for the table farthest from the other customers. As the waiter led them to their table, the General looked at Vincent and caught the last remnants of mild panic fading from his eyes and being replaced with gratefulness. The intensity of the look made the swordsman’s cheeks pink and he pointedly looked away to try to compose himself. 

However confused he might still be about where he and Vincent stood, he was certain of a few things. For example, he loved the gunman’s eyes. He was greatly intrigued by the genetics behind their rich crimson colour—he knew it was their natural hue thanks to the gunman’s original records but he didn’t know if either of his parents had eyes like his. He also knew that some of their preternatural glow came from the experimentation he had been subjected to, a fact that made him feel conflicted. He could usually get past that by contemplating how expressive Vincent’s eyes were, though. During meetings and other formal settings (and sometimes during the time they spent alone, still), the gunman’s face was nearly impossible to read—except for his eyes, although finding the hidden emotions of the Head Turk took some serious observation. Once mastered, though, it had become increasingly easy for Sephiroth to interpret the minute shifts on Vincent’s eyes.  

“You don’t need to thank me,” Sephiroth said once the waiter left to get their drinks. When Vincent looked surprised by his statement, the General shrugged and explained. “You wouldn’t have been comfortable at the bar, would you?”

Vincent smiled wryly and shrugged, too. “Not particularly, no. I could tell you were eager to try so I—”

“You don’t have to do that, either. You can’t keep putting me before yourself, Vincent.”

Just like when he’d asked about the gloves, the admonishment was out of his mouth before he could fully comprehend all the subtext in what he’d just said. He saw the slightly wounded look on Vincent’s eyes, quickly followed by the briefest flash of orange chased by gold before the gunman got a hold of himself and his expression returned to neutral. Afraid he’d crossed a line that would undo all the progress they’d made in the past few days, Sephiroth hastened to find something to say that would fix his mistake. However, a small smile and a hint of a blush on the gunman’s cheeks made him pause.

“I’m sorry. I keep reminding myself that you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself, that I don’t need to try so hard to humour or shelter you, but it’s difficult for me. I want you to be happy and safe so I’m afraid I’ll often come across as overzealous in my pursuit of that goal.”

Sephiroth’s stomach was all aflutter and he could feel himself blushing yet again. Vincent had expressed concern for him before and he’d heard others talk about the gunman’s commitment to his wellbeing, but this was the first time he felt like the older man might be hinting at something more than a sense of unfulfilled duty as the driving force behind his interest in him. He wondered what might have prompted such a drastic change in the gunman’s attitude and outlook since that first dinner they shared at the Seventh Heaven a few weeks ago and whether it would last long enough for Vincent to let him past the barriers he’d built around himself. 

The waiter arrived with their drinks and offered to take their order but they asked for a few more minutes and turned to the menu. Sephiroth asked Vincent for the names of the dishes he’d liked best on Tuesday and the gunman suggested some things Reno hadn’t gotten before. After they called the waiter and ordered, they began talking leisurely about themselves, keeping the conversation light and away from work matters. Vincent shared a bit more about his childhood, focusing on his mother and his Wutain heritage. Sephiroth noticed that the dark-haired man deliberately avoided talking about his father, addressing questions about him with short answers and steering the conversation away from the subject. 

Before he could decide whether or not to ask about it, Vincent’s phone rang just as the waiter came over with their food. The gunman excused himself to take the call and returned a few minutes later with a strange look upon his face. When Sephiroth asked about it, it took Vincent a long moment to reply, making the swordsman a bit uneasy. Noticing the young man’s expression, Vincent smiled reassuringly and explained that Rufus had just called to let him know they had an appointment with the President’s tailor to get new suits for the summit.

“There are two formal dinners: one during opening day, the other one being the closing ceremony itself. We’re required to attend to both but I was under the impression that we were not to be seen, as usual, but it seems like our boss changed his mind about it. Given that he refuses to be seen with disheveled employees, he’s decided to approve our choices in clothing.”

“I see. When is the appointment, then?”

“At three this afternoon. I can drop you off at headquarters after lunch and meet with them at the tailor’s.”

Sephiroth didn’t bother asking how Rufus got an appointment with his tailor on a Saturday afternoon, nor how he talked the man into getting the suits ready in less than a week. There was no better business than Rufus’s when it came to things like high-end clothing and luxury items; as such, there were virtually no impossible scenarios when the blond’s name and wallet were involved. 

The news made him feel disappointed and more than just a little jealous, and he had to try really hard to avoid the surly expression that usually accompanied such moods. Given that both he and Vincent had the weekend off, he had planned to ask the gunman to spend the rest of the day with him. He didn’t want to make it sound like a date, though, having discussed the matter with Genesis just the day before. His friend advised caution—the fact that Galian was under control at the moment didn’t mean that they were in the clear as Sephiroth’s father still had to find a way to permanently balance the creature’s hormones to avoid a potential disaster down the line. 

Furthermore, there were Vincent’s feelings and desires to take into account. Even if he was willing to spend time with Sephiroth during and outside of working hours, that didn’t mean that both Director and General were on the same page as to what kind of relationship they wanted to have with each other. According to Genesis, Sephiroth was allowed his crush and he had a right to pursue a romance with Vincent—as long as he didn’t impose his feelings on the other man. He encouraged his friend to discuss matters openly with the gunman but Sephiroth had no idea of how to approach the subject. 

A part of him insisted he should wait until the summit was over and that huge stress was lifted off everyone’s shoulders. Another part of him, the instinct on which he had come to rely heavily during his military career, told him to at least put his cards on the table before Vincent left for Modeoheim. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen during the summit and that if he didn’t act before it, he’d lose his chance. That gave him a week to work up the courage to ask Vincent out on an actual date and confess his feelings, something he was sure Genesis and Aerith, his confidants in this matter, would advise against. 

He was about to resign himself to spending the rest of the day on his own when Vincent tapped his chopsticks thoughtfully against his plate.

“I know I said I’d take you back to headquarters and then come back but it feels a bit roundabout, so… would you mind dropping me off at the tailor’s?”

Sephiroth took a dumpling and chewed on it as he mulled over Vincent’s request. He could do what the gunman suggested, or he could go with what his instinct told him and buy himself some more time with the red-eyed man. 

“Would you mind if I went with you? I don’t have any pending work back at headquarters and I’m having such a good time with you that it would be a shame to cut it short like that.”

Vincent came to a slow halt with his chopsticks still between his lips and a puzzled look on his face. It reminded Sephiroth of Tuesday, when the gunman had licked his spoon clean in a rather suggestive way. The memory of it, coupled with Vincent’s unwittingly provocative expression just then, forced him to shift on his seat to redistribute himself and hopefully avoid embarrassment. He berated himself for reacting like an oversexed teenager but there was no denying that he was physically attracted to the gunman. Now that they knew that Galian’s hormones wouldn’t influence Vincent’s perception and that Sephiroth wouldn’t be attracted solely to the Cetran guard, he was far more open to accepting his growing desire for the gunman. Genesis’s warnings still rang loud in his mind, though, so he tried to focus on something else to get himself back in check. 

“I don’t mind, no,” Vincent said after what felt like hours. “I just hope you won’t get bored.”

“I’m sure I won’t. Maybe I’ll even get something for myself.”

Vincent blushed and quickly brought a piece of broccoli to his mouth, changing subjects as soon as he was done with it. Sephiroth wondered what about his comment could have made the gunman blush but came up empty. Happy just to spend more time with Vincent, he let it slide.

* * *

 

Sector Four was the most upscale section in Midgar, so it didn’t come as a surprise to Vincent or Sephiroth that Rufus’s tailor was located there. The clothier was next to a boutique specialised in wedding and evening gowns and below a photographic studio, all of them owned and run by the same family, judging by their names. All three shops claimed to have been established about fifty years earlier, which explained the old-fashioned quality of the construction and decor. It also meant that Vincent was around ten years old when they first opened, a notion that made him feel mildly out of place. 

As strange as it sounded, there hadn’t been a lot of instances when he felt like that since his return to Midgar. He had been confined to Sectors Two and Three during his childhood for two reasons. One, even if his parents were well-off, neither of them were fond of flaunting their fortune; and two, the paranoia that Grimoire’s experiments on Vincent caused him and Maeko. 

Sectors Two and Three had changed a lot since he first joined Shinra so there hadn’t been any reminders of his previous life there. Even his parents’ house was gone, replaced by a public school. He’d never had reason to visit some of the Sectors that remained mostly unchanged, Sector Four among them, so he had dodged most reminders of his status as a living anachronism. 

Shaking off the odd feeling of displacement, Vincent parked their silver car next to a sleek white convertible that he immediately recognised as Rufus’s; next to it was a somewhat old but well-kept fire engine red sports car belonging to Reno. It made sense that the Turks and the President would need two cars to mobilise, but the gunman couldn’t think of a reason why they should choose such conspicuous vehicles, particularly when Avalanche had issued threats not only on the summit and Midgar but on Rufus himself. 

“I guess having all the Turks around has made our President a bit bold,” Sephiroth said as he stepped out of the car.

Vincent didn’t say anything as he locked and armed the car but his expression made it clear to the silver-haired swordsman that he didn’t approve of Rufus’s decision. A morbid sense of curiosity made Sephiroth wonder if Vincent would confront Rufus about it publicly or if he’d wait until they were back at headquarters to express his concern. 

The shop’s door opened with a digital chime that clashed with the notes of an old record Vincent recognised from his childhood. The tune, one his parents used to dance to, and the overall atmosphere of the area made him feel nostalgic and cast a wistful shadow across his eyes, almost completely erasing the scowl that had taken over his features when he noticed Rufus and Reno’s cars outside. The scent of leather and freshly ironed cloth waiting to be measured and cut gave him a sense of deja vu that he couldn’t explain. Attributing it to some of the early memories he lost because of Hojo’s experimentation, he pushed it aside and went further inside the store, Sephiroth close behind. 

There was no need to call out to Rufus or any of the Turks as they quickly found them in the measuring area. Rude stood in a small platform while a middle-aged man placed pins all over a midnight blue three-piece suit; at the same time, a woman in her late twenties took measurements and scribbled them on a small notepad that she deftly juggled with her measurement tape and extra pins for the older man. Tseng was off to the side, browsing through ties to match Rude’s suit; Rufus was talking to a man well into his sixties about what kind of suit he wanted to get, while Reno sat on a bench looking extremely bored. Elena and Cissnei were nowhere around so Vincent assumed they had gone to the shop next door to look for dresses. 

Not wanting to interrupt anyone, Vincent went over to Reno and sat next to him on the bench. Sephiroth hesitated a moment before joining them. 

“I didn’t think you’d actually come, yo. Especially not with Seph here.”

The gunman shrugged and tilted his head in Rufus’s general direction. 

“I declined twice before Rufus ordered me to come. Sephiroth is here of his own accord—I did warn him that this could be terribly boring.”

“I don’t understand why you’d think that,” Sephiroth said. 

“That’s because Vincent and Reno don’t believe in wasting money on clothes until their entire wardrobe is about to fall apart,” Rufus said as he stood in front of them. 

Reno and Vincent blushed and crossed their arms, one huffing and the other sighing. The synchrony of their reactions made Rufus laugh and Sephiroth raise an eyebrow in curiosity. Everyone knew the redheaded Turk was a bit of a slob so it came as no surprise that he wasn’t too interested in keeping a decent wardrobe. Vincent, on the other hand, always dressed impeccably. He’d only seen him out of uniform once, though, on that failed first dinner some weeks ago. He hadn’t paid close attention to the gunman’s attire then but it hadn’t struck him as particularly old or threadbare. Thinking back on it, though, the dress pants and shirt Vincent had worn that day were rather plain and seemed a bit big on the Turk’s lean frame. 

“I don’t understand the appeal of spending thousands of gil on a single attire,” Vincent protested. “It’s not like I’m going to wear it more than twice.”

“Twice?” Rufus asked. “You don’t mean to wear the same thing to the opening and closing ceremonies, do you?”

Vincent looked positively horrified while Reno patted his back in sympathy. 

“That’s right, Bossman. The Big Boss here is getting us all _two_ suits. Well, except the girls—he’s getting them dresses.”

“You’re paying?” Sephiroth asked before Vincent could voice his outrage and object to the blond’s plans.

“Yes. I’m writing it off as company expenses, though.”

Sephiroth smiled and shook his head. “I should’ve known it wasn’t purely out of the kindness of your heart.”

“Excuse me for paying attention in my Economics class _and_ for wanting my Turks to look their best when around me.”

“This is like those exhibition matches all over again…” Vincent grunted, hiding his face in his hands.

As Rufus and Sephiroth laughed, Rude came over and announced that he was done and nearly dragged Reno out of the bench and onto the platform. Tseng then called for Rufus and the blond left Vincent and Sephiroth alone. The gunman sighed and rubbed his temple, clearly displeased to be caught in his current situation. Wanting to make him feel better, Sephiroth offered to look at the sample suits with him to speed up the process. Grudgingly, Vincent accepted. 

As they idly browsed through the many options available, the General sought to make small talk by bringing up the subject of Cloud and Kunsel’s promotion. Zack’s boundless excitement for his pupils’ progress eventually became the focus of their talk, and Vincent asked Sephiroth why was it that he never took on an apprentice. 

“I’ve never had the time to tutor anyone. Besides, all my enhancements make it extremely difficult for anyone other than Angeal and Genesis to keep up with me.”

“I see,” Vincent mused. He paused for a moment to take a closer look at a white tux but quickly dismissed it and kept on looking. “Who do you think will take over as General after you retire, though? I mean, it would have to be Zack or someone that joined after him.”

Sephiroth smiled ruefully and took a moment to admire a cobalt blue pinstripe suit. He liked the cut more than the colour—a darker shade would work better for him—and made a mental note of where the suit was so he could talk to the tailor about it. Returning to Vincent’s comment, he told the gunman that he had been talking about that with Angeal and Genesis a few days before and both of his friends thought that either Zack or Cloud could eventually take the reins of Shinra’s military. 

With a lot of Genesis’s help, Angeal had taken it upon himself to introduce Zack to some of the administrative aspects of being a high ranking officer and both seemed to think he could get the hang of things in a few more years, once his natural restlessness gave way to a more centred approach to his career. He was currently more interested in breaking records and becoming stronger, something that didn’t leave much room for activities such as planning and strategising, two things that were important for anyone in a leadership position to master. The potential was there, though, which was why Angeal insisted on bringing it up regularly to his energetic student. 

On the other hand, Cloud had displayed remarkable leadership skills since he first joined Soldier. Given the blond’s shy and introverted nature, they had to be coaxed out of him at first, but as soon as he realised he had them, he had been able to focus on them and develop them appropriately. The self-defence course had been a test of sorts in that regard, and the young Second Lieutenant had passed with flying colours. Genesis had already decided to take him away from Zack’s tutelage and into his own in order to fine-tune his skills and introduce him properly to the clerical side of Soldier early on. The Commander’s hope was that Cloud could make his way to First Lieutenant quickly and help ease their workload as far as training new recruits went, as that was the best way to groom someone into Commander and, eventually, General. 

Vincent smiled fondly, lending a warm glow to his eyes. 

“I have to say I agree with Genesis’s idea. Cloud certainly is the kind of man I would give my full support to and follow anywhere.”

The jealousy was there in an instant, making Sephiroth feel like Cloud was taking away something that should belong only to him. As it was quickly becoming a habit, he spoke before his brain had time to filter his words and tone, making him sound brusque when he was just trying to gauge Vincent’s perception of him.

“Would you follow me like that?”

Vincent’s smile froze for a second before disappearing entirely. He had picked a traditional two-piece suit that didn’t deviate much from his regular uniform along the way and had been in the process of pulling a tuxedo from the rack when Sephiroth’s unexpected question made him go stock still. A strange expression passed over his face as he stared at Sephiroth as though he hadn’t understood the younger man. He was spared from trying to formulate an answer by Reno’s loud announcement that he was done and it was Vincent’s turn to be stabbed by unholily sharp pins. 

After Vincent mumbled an apology to Sephiroth and made a rather hasty retreat towards the measuring area, Reno sauntered over to Sephiroth with his hands deep in his pants’ pockets. He had overheard the last part of the swordsman’s conversation with his boss and felt the need to intervene in a small degree. He had already decided that he would do everything he could to see Vincent and Sephiroth together but he didn’t want to be too obvious about it in front of the General. Still, Sephiroth’s question struck him as supremely stupid and worthy of some meddling.

“I’d say it’s kinda obvious he’d follow you anywhere if it meant keeping you safe, yo. That you still have to ask, tho’… I don’t know, man.”

Sephiroth looked intently at Reno, looking for any sign that the redhead was being sarcastic or trying to turn the situation into a joke; when he found none, he sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. Reno was right—he shouldn’t have asked such a foolish question. Genesis would’ve probably banged his head against a wall if he’d heard him. He felt like a lovesick teenager, fumbling over things other people would instinctually know how to deal with appropriately and making a mess of things in his pursuit of another’s interest. 

To have something to do (and to avoid having to admit his idiocy to Reno), he went back to the pinstripe suit and took it from the rack. Realising he couldn’t just dismiss Reno, he decided to ask who would be in charge of his family during the summit. 

“Elena’s assigned to your dad and Rude to your mom. I’ll be responsible for Aerith.”

Sephiroth nodded and looked at Reno with a serious expression.

“I’m trusting you all with their lives. They better come back home safe and sound.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll look after them like they’re our own family.”

From across the room, Tseng signalled for Reno to join him. With a dramatic sigh, Reno slumped forward before shuffling towards the Wutain. 

Sephiroth stared at Reno’s retreating form with a pensive look as Vincent’s heartfelt account of his attachment to the Turks came to mind. He was aware that the redhead’s assurance that they would look after his parents and sister like their own family should put him at ease but it didn’t. There was something about Reno’s tone and demeanour as he said it that set off a strange alarm in him. He was still trying to pinpoint what it was when Rufus all but materialised next to him and told him he should get a suit, too.

“Beg pardon?”

“A suit. You should get one. I’ll pay for it, too, if you want to.”

Ignoring the fact that he was already planning to buy a suit, the General asked Rufus why he should get one.

“I like my employees to look nice, and few people look as good in a suit as you do,” he replied with a small shrug. A blush tinted his cheeks before he added, “Vincent is perhaps the only person I know that looks even better than you in a suit. Unfortunately, other than his uniform, he’s not very keen on dressing up and so he’ll never get clothes this nice on his own, which is why I’m forcing him to get an extra suit. I was pushing for four, actually, but he got the same look he used to give Heidegger when the idea of murdering him became almost too appealing to ignore so I had to back down.”

Sephiroth couldn’t help but laugh at the visual and Rufus rolled his eyes, punching him lightly on the shoulder.

“Shut up. I’m not giving up, though. I’m taking him shopping for regular and casual clothes tomorrow. It’s about damn time someone taught him how to buy clothes that actually fit him.”

“You seem to be quite acquainted with Vincent’s wardrobe, Rufus. I thought you were only that involved with Tseng, since he’s your bodyguard.”

If Rufus detected the slight edge on Sephiroth’s voice or recognised the bait he threw his way, he didn’t react to either. He simply shrugged as he idly browsed through the racks near them.

“I’m involved with all my Turks. Vincent sort of gave me the slip until recently but I’m fixing that.”

Something caught his attention in the rack Vincent had been looking at before and he zeroed in on it. Before Sephiroth could make any sort of comment on Rufus’s interest in the gunman, the blond pulled out a double-breasted jacket from the rack. The grin on his face made the General imagine the coat on Vincent and he commended Rufus on his keen eye. 

“Thanks. Anyway, like I said, I can get you a suit if you want to. Maybe you can find a reason to dress up soon, and maybe you can invite Vincent to join you, given that he’ll have an extra suit.”

While Sephiroth was still processing the suggestion, Rufus slid past him and pressed something into his hand as he went. Still trying to figure out what was going on, the silver-haired man looked at his hand and found two tickets for the current production of Loveless. There was no date on them, just a small disclaimer indicating that the ticket holders could attend to any performance during the play’s run. By the time he looked up again, Rufus was already back at the measuring area, practically shoving the coat into Vincent’s arms while discussing colour options for the suit with Tseng and the tailor. He couldn’t spot Rude, but Reno was back on the bench looking bored out of his mind. He had even taken out a cigarette and was twirling it between his fingers, eyeing it like the idea of lighting up was worth all the trouble he’d undoubtedly get in.

He hanged back for a moment and took some time to see Vincent interact with the others. While Rufus stepped away with the tailor to look for some fabric the blond was sure would look good on the gunman, Tseng watched as the tailor’s assistants started taking measures. The woman moved to remove Vincent’s blazer and he recoiled slightly; the movement was a reflex, though, something that obviously annoyed Vincent, making him blush and apologise. The woman simply smiled at him and asked him to remove the jacket himself. Vincent did, apologising once more and handing the jacket over to Tseng. As the Wutain took it and handed him the double-breasted coat, he squeezed Vincent’s hand reassuringly and gave him a small, encouraging smile that Vincent met with a barely there quirk of his lips.

The exchange was brief and imperceptible to the tailor’s aides but Sephiroth caught every minute detail of it. Vincent had been huffy ever since he stepped onto the measuring platform and he’d been glaring at Rufus and Tseng, looking for all the world like he wanted nothing more to find a way out of an activity that he had complained about from the very beginning. The incident with the young woman had obviously upset him for reasons Sephiroth couldn’t even begin to comprehend, adding to the tension that had accumulated in the gunman and that had been evident in the way he stood ramrod straight, shoulders squared in an almost defensive stance and jaw set so tight the tendons on his neck were taut to the point of looking painful. Sephiroth wouldn’t say Vincent looked relaxed now but much of the stubborn resistance and fight had left him after that brief touch and small smile from Tseng.

The door’s chime interrupted his jealousy trip. When he turned around, he saw Rude walking towards Vincent and the others with Elena and Cissnei in tow. The tallest of the Turks was carrying five or six bags and balancing two shoe boxes; Cissnei had another two boxes in her arms while Elena had apparently been spared from carrying anything given her still healing arm. Reno stood up and hurried to relieve his partner of some of his burden, asking why they hadn’t dropped everything off at the car. Rude looked at him like one would a slow-witted child and reminded the redhead that he had the keys to his car and Tseng had the ones for Rufus’s. Seeing his chance to flee his torture at least for a few minutes, Reno stuck his unlit cigarette behind his ear, took Cissnei’s boxes, and cheerfully left the store, Rude plodding behind with a long sigh. 

Elena and Cissnei giggled at their friends and went over to the measuring area, smiling and waving at Sephiroth as they walked past him. He greeted them as warmly as possible but he could still feel his jealousy trying to get the best of him. It got worse when both women started complimenting Vincent, managing to make him blush and smile in earnest. It was an easy-going smile, the kind that Sephiroth had only managed to bring out in the gunman a handful of times. Each one of those smiles had come as a surprise to him and he still wasn’t entirely sure how to earn more of them. All he knew was that he felt proud of himself every time, almost like he’d conquered a monumental task in getting the usually stoic man to show genuine lightheartedness. 

Seeing Vincent interact with the Turks, though, showed him a side of the other man that he didn’t know how to interpret. It was like the myriad barriers the dark-haired man had created did not exist for the Turks, as though they had unimpeded access to a different Vincent Valentine than the one Sephiroth had been introduced to. 

The rational side of him tried to placate him by reminding him that Vincent had made it very clear that the Turks were his family and his relationship to them was different than any others he had or would allow himself to have. The side of him that tended to act like a teenager resented the comment, feeling that it meant he would never be allowed to spend time with this other Vincent, a thought it found insulting. 

When Reno and Rude returned a few minutes later, the redhead seemed quite relaxed so the swordsman assumed he’d taken the chance to have a smoke outside; the faint aroma of tobacco and menthol confirmed his theory. As both men walked passed him while discussing their plans for the rest of the weekend, Sephiroth perked up his ears as he followed them to the measuring area, noticing that Vincent was putting his jacket back on and trying very hard not to bolt out of the shop as soon as he stepped down from the platform. When their eyes crossed, the same odd expression from before passed over Vincent’s face before he managed a small smile. 

“Are you getting a suit, after all?” he asked, motioning towards the pinstriped suit in the General’s hands.

“Yes. I think it’s about time I get a new one.”

“I’d offer my advice but I’m afraid I’m not at all fashion-conscious. Rufus and Tseng might be able to help, though.”

Tseng and Rufus looked at each other before giving Sephiroth a questioning look. He’d known both men long enough to realise they were giving him a chance to get rid of them and stay alone with Vincent. He wasn’t sure why, though, and it confused him. However, he wasn’t about to let the opportunity slide.

“I can manage on my own just fine. Besides, I don’t want to intrude on any plans they might have.”

“I do have an informal meeting with Shalua and Bugenhagen,” Rufus said. 

Vincent crossed his arms and gave Rufus the kind of look Sephiroth used to get from his father when a lecture was on its way.

“I hope this meeting is at headquarters, away from crowded areas where we can’t keep a close eye on you, sir.”

“It’s actually at Shalua’s over in Sector Five,” Rufus said, blushing slightly. 

“Sir, you can’t be going around town in that car with only Tseng as protection. It’s like you’ve painted a bullseye on your back, endangering not only yourself but everyone you meet with.”

The tailor’s aides, who’d been clearing the measuring area up until then to prepare for Sephiroth’s fitting, quickly disappeared to the back of the shop. Elena and Cissnei discreetly retreated towards one of the display cabinets, quickly becoming more interested in pocket watches and other accessories than in the stand-off between their two bosses. Tseng fidgeted with his tie, a clear sign that he was uncomfortable, while Reno and Rude stood a couple of feet to Vincent’s right, alternating between eyeing him and Rufus. Sephiroth remained by Vincent’s side, only moving a few steps away to avoid invading his space.

Rufus looked cowed for a few seconds before crossing his arms and mirroring Vincent’s stance. He didn’t get a reaction from the gunman but at least he didn’t look like a reprimanded child anymore.

“You’re off the clock, Vincent. You shouldn’t be worrying about work.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d avoid putting yourself in unnecessary danger. I’m not even telling you not to leave headquarters, sir, but at least take one of the unmarked cars. We have them for a reason.”

Before Rufus could reply, Reno slapped Rude on the back loud enough to startle everyone. 

“Pay up, man! I told ya Vince would make a fuss about the cars.”

Hanging his head and sighing deeply, Vincent walked over to Reno and tugged on his goggles before letting them snap back against his head, causing the redhead to curse loudly. 

“What the hell, man?!”

“If you’re going to basically bet with your boss’s life, Reno, don’t let your other boss hear about it.”

After some more admonishment aimed Reno’s way, Tseng stepped up to Vincent and clasped his shoulder lightly. To avoid a lengthy discussion that would probably ruin everyone’s weekend, he proposed to have Rude drop him and Rufus off at Shalua’s and take Rufus’s convertible back to headquarters; once the meeting was over, he’d call someone to pick them up in an unmarked car. Vincent agreed and instructed Tseng to let him know when they were back at headquarters. After promising to do so, Tseng and the others made to leave so Sephiroth could get the measurements for his suit taken.  

They’d only taken a few steps towards the front door when Rufus stopped and turned around, calling out to Vincent.

“Tseng and I’ll pick you up tomorrow around nine to get breakfast before going shopping. You’re welcome to join us, Seph.”

Vincent’s jaw set and he simply nodded in acknowledgement, not trusting himself not to say something completely insensitive and out of place. The fact that Rufus smiled like he’d just wine the most important argument of his life didn’t help manners any. 

As soon as he heard the roar of two engines coming to life and pulling away from the shop, he let out a long sigh and slumped on the bench Reno had been occupying for most of the afternoon. 

Feeling it would be inappropriate to say anything just then—and not really knowing what he could say, anyway—, Sephiroth decided to find the tailor’s aides and get his fitting over and done with so they could leave the shop as soon as possible.

* * *

After Sephiroth’s fitting and before heading back to headquarters, they stopped at an old fashioned ice cream parlour a block away from the tailor’s and bought ice cream cones, as well as some ice cream cupcakes that Vincent thought looked good. They had done so at Sephiroth’s suggestion after he received a text message from Tseng letting him know that if Vincent was cranky, he should try to get him to eat something sweet. He’d seen the ice cream parlour on their way to the tailor’s and, remembering how much Vincent had enjoyed the ice cream Reno got them from Leviathan’s Scales, he asked the gunman to take them there as soon as they left the tailor’s. 

The suggestion seemed to surprise Vincent but he quickly agreed. Sephiroth was glad because he’d seemed in a better mood while sampling the different flavours offered by the shop. However, his relief was short lived as Vincent hadn’t said much of anything afterwards. Not knowing how to start a conversation, Sephiroth kept quiet, staring out the window and holding on to the box of cupcakes like his life depended on it. 

They arrived at one of the longest red lights in town and Vincent set the car to neutral to rest his hands for a moment. After stretching as well as he could given the limited space in the car, he relaxed back on his seat. He’d been silent for so long that Sephiroth was a bit surprised to hear him speak.

“I’m sorry you got caught up in all of that. I’m sure you’ll probably want to spend time with your family or friends and I’d hate to see Rufus’s whims get in the way of that, so you don’t have to come with us tomorrow if you don’t want to.”

Sephiroth couldn’t help but smile at Vincent’s choice of words. Very few people would dare speak like that about Rufus, and even fewer would confront him about his slightly reckless behaviour in light of the situation with Avalanche, particularly in public. He liked that about Vincent but knew better than to try to deflect the conversation by bringing it up.

“I don’t have any actual plans, to be honest. I wouldn’t mind spending time with you and the others as long as it doesn’t bother you.”

Vincent tensed for a brief second and Sephiroth wasn’t sure whether the flash of orange that crossed his eyes was Galian or just a reflection of the lights of a car speeding past them in the opposite direction. The gunman nodded minutely, though, as if hesitant to accept his company the next day. 

“I just…” Vincent sighed and shook his head. “Don’t mind me. I’m just tired." 

The light turned green and the car was filled with silence again. It went on for the rest of the ride back to headquarters, interrupted only when Vincent signed the car back into the garage. They made their way to the elevator together, taking the same one but each pressing the button for his own floor. Vincent’s came first, so he took his cupcakes and said good night to Sephiroth after confirming their plans for the next day. 

When the door to the elevator closed, Vincent sighed heavily and made his way to his apartment. He stopped outside of Tseng’s for a moment, contemplating letting himself in and waiting for the younger man—he was still at Shalua’s with Rufus and would probably take a few more hours to return. He could just go to sleep in the other’s bed after taking a shower and drinking some tea to while away the hours. When Tseng returned, he could talk to him about Sephiroth’s unexpected attentions and maybe get an explanation to Rufus’s sudden decision to invite the General to their shopping trip. 

In the end, he decided not to burden Tseng or any of the others with his problems and went to his apartment. After taking off his jacket, tie, and gloves, he took a cupcake from the box and left the rest in the freezer. He sat on his couch and ate the lightly softened treat slowly, trying to relax, but his mind kept going back to his lunch with Sephiroth and the events at the tailor’s. Sephiroth’s question— _Would you follow me like that?_ —echoed in his head like a record stuck on repeat. To him, the answer was obvious to the point of being ridiculous: _I’m here, aren’t I?_ Back in Midgar and back at Shinra, all to make sure Sephiroth was safe and happy. Being Head Turk was an extension of that but everything stemmed from his singleminded desire to ensure Sephiroth’s wellbeing. 

The cupcake was gone and he didn’t feel any better, just slightly more awake and therefore more aware of the absurdity of his situation. Going back to his intention of sleeping the rest of the day and evening away, he decided to skip tea and just take a shower before shutting off the world until it was time to let Rufus drag him around all over Sector Six on his bizarre quest to get him new clothes. 

He was picking up his clothes when the bell rang on his door. Frowning, he threw the clothes back on the couch and went to answer the door. 

Sephiroth was standing outside with a look on his face that Vincent couldn’t read. He was about to ask the younger man what the problem was when strong hands gripped his shoulders, pushing him further into his apartment. He tripped over his shoes and felt his stomach sink when he thought he would stumble backwards, except that instead of finding himself sprawled on the floor and nursing an impressive headache, he ended up with his hands desperately grabbing on to Sephiroth’s shirt. The swordsman’s left hand was on his hip, holding him close, while his right hand was on his back, keeping him from falling over even when his legs felt like weak rubber. 

Most important of all, however, and the thing that his mind was still trying to process, was the fact that Sephiroth was kissing him. 

It started as a rushed pressed of the lips, but now Sephiroth’s tongue had found its way into his mouth and was probing every inch of it in a hungry, desperate fashion. At first, Vincent could do nothing but allow Sephiroth to take whatever he wanted from him. The part of his mind that was rather enjoying the attention found the General’s taste exquisite, a tempestuous mixture of the sweetness of mulled wine and the acidity of certain remedies. His body heat was beginning to affect him, as well, making him feel feverish and agitated. 

He didn’t know when he started kissing Sephiroth back, nor when the swordsman shifted their position so Vincent was pinned between his front door and Sephiroth’s larger frame. His arms where now around the taller man’s shoulders, hands tangled in his long, silky hair. 

At some point after Tuesday’s lunch, Reno had gotten a hold of his phone and signed him up for Sephiroth’s fan club newsletter; he had also found a way for Vincent to receive every single mail sent out before he joined. He had scolded Reno for stealing his phone and doing such a childish thing but he had also gone through all the messages thoroughly. He had been particularly amused when he read about the General’s rigorous haircare routine, which apparently included industrial amounts of shampoo and conditioner that turned his hair into a sort of scent roulette. Chaos had found the latter part of the statement ridiculous, informing Vincent that Sephiroth’s hair always smelled like rosewood and mythril. The gunman had refrained from asking just how Chaos knew that (although he was very curious about the mythril bit) and from trying to figure out whether or not it was true.

Right now, though, as his fingers dug into Sephiroth’s hair and ruffled it, he was almost sure he got a trace of rosewood in the air around them. He would’ve found the situation laughable if the younger man hadn’t abandoned his mouth in favour of leaving a wet trail of kisses and nips along his jawline and down his neck. Sephiroth’s rumbling voice calling out his name in clear desire and abandon wrenched a needy moan of his own that sounded vaguely like the General’s name and more like a wild plea for more. 

He was beginning to lose himself in Sephiroth’s voice and kisses when the younger man’s hands pulled his shirt free from his slacks and slid up his sides. Sephiroth wasn’t wearing gloves, so the heat of skin on skin contact made Vincent hiss in surprise. At the same time, his hands quickly grabbed Sephiroth’s wrists to halt his movements while pushing him away. His body mourned the loss of contact at once, demanding more of the swordsman’s intoxicating touches, but Vincent’s mind reigned supreme, reminding every part of the gunman that he had decided to take things slow and to put all his cards on the table so Sephiroth could decide if he wanted to step into the imbroglio that was his love life. 

Sephiroth was able to twist his hands free of Vincent’s hold and moved in to kiss him again, but Vincent had anticipated it and managed to dodge out of Sephiroth’s way, retreating to the relative safety of his living room. He could feel the swordsman following him close behind and felt panic rise within him, not because he thought Sephiroth would force him to do something he didn’t want, but because he wasn’t sure he could refuse the other man’s advances long enough to say what he needed. 

Thankfully, Sephiroth stopped a few steps away from Vincent’s coffee table, leaving the small piece of furniture as a sort of barrier between them. His cheeks were still flushed and his hair mussed where Vincent had gotten playful with it; he had that same unreadable expression on his face again, except his eyes burned with something that was definitely barely contained lust. It made Vincent shift his stance and lick his lips, which ended up being a mistake since the lingering taste of Sephiroth brought a wave of desire that was getting more and more difficult to ignore. 

Running a hand through his hair, he made his way to the kitchen and put the kettle on for tea, asking if Sephiroth wanted something. Stiffly, Sephiroth asked for coffee so Vincent got the coffeemaker going, too. He did his best to control the slight shake of his hands as he retrieved two mugs from the cabinet and did a quick check with Chaos and Galian. Chaos was the only one to respond, and what he had to say wasn’t exactly encouraging: Galian was crankier than usual and had retreated so far back into Vincent’s mind that Chaos was barely able to feel him. The silver-lining in that was that Galian’s mood wouldn’t affect Vincent’s, so the gunman had free rein of his body. 

_That doesn’t help me any._

**_If you really want my input, then I say you’re doing the right thing. Just… brace yourself for the worst and keep one of the kids on ready dial or something._ **

Vincent fought the urge to huff but did take his phone out of his slacks’ pocket and made a draft for a text message addressed at Cissnei and Elena. There was no way Reno would be sober on a Saturday off, and he had an idea Rufus and Tseng would return rather late from Shalua’s, more likely than not more than a little drunk and with an appetite for each other. That meant that Rude would get roped into picking them up and delivering them safely back to headquarters, which in turn meant that the oldest of his juniors would require a lot of rest afterwards—Tseng wasn’t too problematic when inebriated, but Rufus tended to get quite rowdy. The girls were probably catching up on their favourite TV show at Elena’s so they’d be his best bet were he to require comfort later on.

The next few minutes were spent in silence while the water boiled and the coffee brewed, and each second felt like an hour to Vincent. He kept his back to the bar, knowing Sephiroth had gone and sat at it and was waiting for him to say something. No words had been spoken between them since they parted ways at the elevator, not even when Vincent pushed Sephiroth away. Still, there seemed to be an unspoken understanding that Vincent had something to say, and the swordsman had agreed to wait. For some reason, that made Vincent even more nervous.

Once the coffee was done, Vincent poured a cup for Sephiroth and set sugar, milk, and cream within reach so he could prepare it to taste. A minute later he fixed himself a cup of tea and sat on the opposite side of the bar, staring into the reddish-brown swirls of his drink as though he could find an opening line in them. After two careful sips, he sighed heavily and started talking.

* * *

Rude came out of the elevator with a bottle of Howling Moon wine in his left hand and his phone in the other. He was trying to dial Vincent’s number to check on him at Tseng’s request since the gunman hadn’t replied to the Wutain’s text message letting him know they’d gotten back home safely. The phone was new, though, and narrower than his old one, so his fingers hadn’t quite gotten used to the smaller keyboard. He didn’t trust IT not to mess up things in the near future, either, so he hadn’t set any numbers to speed dial and he had to scroll through his contacts every time he wanted to make a call. 

Thus distracted by his unwieldy device, he nearly walked into Sephiroth as the General all but barrelled down the hallway leading to the elevators. Rude managed to step aside in time to avoid colliding with the other man and was about to apologise when he noticed the barely contained fury in those cat-like eyes. The fact that it seemed to intensify when Sephiroth recognised him set his nerves on edge, so as soon as he was out of the General’s line of sight, he rushed to Vincent’s apartment. 

He rang the bell twice and when that didn’t get him an answer, he knocked and called Vincent’s name loudly. His heart was thundering in his chest and his stomach felt leaden the longer it took for his boss to answer the door. He was about to override the lock and just let himself inside when the door finally opened and an exhausted-looking Vincent greeted him with a tiny smile that didn’t light up his eyes at all. 

“Tower… I was about to text Cissnei and Elena but I’m glad you’re here.”

Rude wanted to ask what had happened but he had a fairly good idea what the answer would be. That, in turn, made him want to chase after Sephiroth and beat some sense into him—or just beat him senseless, it didn’t much matter which. Much like Galian, he didn’t trust the General not to hurt Vincent, a concern that had seemingly become true. He wouldn’t bring it up, though, knowing it wouldn’t make Vincent feel any better. He wouldn’t go after Sephiroth, either, knowing that would make Vincent feel worse for a lot of reasons. 

Instead, he walked into Vincent’s apartment, locking the door behind him and leaving the wine and his shoes at the entrance. Without a word, he went over to Vincent, who was still standing in the small hallway looking like all he wanted to do was curl up and disappear, and hugged him tight. At first, Vincent didn’t move, worrying Rude even more. A few seconds later, though, a ragged sigh shook the gunman and he wrapped his arms around Rude, holding on to him as tightly as he could. 

When the sobbing started, Rude cursed Sephiroth inwardly and held Vincent closer.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG I finally got this chapter done! It’s been monstrous, let me tell you, but a lot of fun, too. It took me about five days longer than I originally intended but it’s now here for your enjoyment.
> 
> I’m afraid next chapter won’t come out until mid to late November, as I will now focus on my girlfriend’s birthday present (due on the 3rd of November). There’s also the matter of my horrible schedule at work, so we’ll see how much time that leaves me to work on this and all my other projects.
> 
> As usual, thanks for all the likes/follows/faves/kudos, as well as for your comments and infinite patience. I just want to assure you again that I am not abandoning this story, although it will take me much longer to finish than originally anticipated. I hope you’ll stick around until the end!  


	14. Silent Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genesis and the Turks are left trying to build bridges between Sephiroth and Vincent after the General's disastrous nighttime visit to the gunman. As their relationship becomes even more tense, complications arising from the enhancement session for the new Firsts threatened to shoot holes in their personal lives and at work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive! The story is alive! Apologies at the end.

If there was something Vincent had learned from his time as a Turk and refined since his Nibelheim ordeal it was to compartmentalise his life. It had been too long since he’d had to actively keep his private and work lives separate so he was a little rusty, but Sephiroth’s disastrous visit jogged his memory and he slipped back into old habits rather quickly.

When Rude came to the apartment the previous night, he’d found him near the verge of collapse. His emotions were all over the place and it was by a very minimal margin that sadness and sorrow spilled through first. Having someone to lean on made him drop his guard and Galian leaped forward, completely bypassing Chaos’s tenuous restraints and driving Vincent back into his mind so quickly that the gunman had no chance to recover. All Rude had time to do was call Reno to help him deal with Galian; since the Planet Protector had taken an instant shine to the redhead, he managed to calm him down and keep him from running after Sephiroth to avenge Vincent’s honour.

It took Vincent several hours to be able to take control of his body, and that was after using all the protomateria shots he had at home. For an agonisingly long time it seemed like they would need the rest, so Rude ended up calling Cissnei and asking her to bring the shots Vincent had left at his office; by the time she arrived, though, the first five rounds had already taken effect and the protomateria stabilised enough that Chaos managed to rein in Galian and Vincent stepped through again. Everyone was at the gunman’s apartment by then and they had all braced and prepared themselves to comfort him like they’d done the previous week. Instead, they were confronted with a wrathful Vincent that had to be talked out of a truly uncharacteristic rage fit.

Once he stopped pacing the room like a caged tiger and was able to speak without Chaos or Galian’s gruffer tones slipping through, he explained what had happened. After Sephiroth kissed him, he sat down with the General and explained his relationship to the Turks (and now Rufus), and how Chaos and Galian were a part of that, too. After the initial shock passed, Sephiroth began asking questions. Vincent answered as many as he felt comfortable with, from when had his open relationship with the others started to how it differed from his first stint as a Turk. When the General’s questions got more personal, the Director refused to answer them, stating that further details were not of Sephiroth’s concern. The swordsman then started asking about Chaos and Galian; again, Vincent only provided facts that he thought might clarify things for the younger man but refrained from any specifics.

For some reason, Sephiroth thought that it would be a good idea for Vincent to suspend his affair with the others and give him a go. The gunman patiently explained that, even if he were inclined to do so (which he wasn’t), Chaos and Galian would hear none of it. Without missing a beat, Sephiroth had gone on to suggest that Vincent should find a way to suppress not only Galian but Chaos, too, reasoning that, in doing so, the gunman wouldn’t be ‘forced’ to keep his polygamous relationship going. Vincent did his best to remain calm but Chaos’s indignation and Galian’s outrage—who had woken up somewhere along the line without Vincent realising it—piled with his own anger, making him defensive and even aggressive. The swordsman responded in kind and the conversation turned rude and almost physically violent.

The fabled last drop came when Sephiroth brought the Turks into the argument, calling them Vincent’s harem (Reno made the mistake of laughing at that, to which Vincent reacted by growling at him to shut up; the redhead did so immediately, once again finding this bossy and short-tempered side of the gunman incredibly arousing) and questioning their professionalism and ability to keep his family safe during the summit. He took a shot at Rufus, too, echoing his father’s concerns that the young President gave the Turks too much leeway and hinting at his relationship with them as the cause.

Vincent had little problem with Sephiroth attacking him, but when he targeted Rufus and the Turks, he nearly lost it. Uncharacteristically, Chaos remained cool throughout—at least, cooler than Vincent and Galian—and managed to step forward and chase the General away before things escalated to an unfixable point.

Sephiroth left, not before making it clear that he wouldn’t be added to Vincent’s ‘collection’ and saying he wished he’d never approached him in the first place. However, the statement lacked a sense of finality, something to which Vincent had tried to cling but had quickly lost grasp on. After he finished retelling the night’s events to the Turks, he more or less collapsed against a wall and slid all the way to the floor in abject defeat. All fight had left him and he felt tired and hollow; he couldn’t cry or lash out anymore, and all he wanted to do was sleep.

Tseng and Elena tried to hold him but he asked them not to. It broke their hearts but they complied, choosing to sit a few feet away from him. They talked to him for a long time, urging him not to give up on Sephiroth just yet. They tried to convince him that the General hadn’t really meant any of the hurtful things he said and that he would come to his senses once he had some time to think things through. Vincent, however, continued to quietly shake his head, looking completely beaten.

Tseng looked at his companions one by one, receiving mostly encouraging looks back—Elena and Rude shared a guarded look of their own before shrugging lightly in their boss’s direction—, before he turned to Vincent and tentatively suggested to give Sephiroth’s idea a try. He wanted to say they could all step aside temporarily and then ease Sephiroth into the open relationship but Vincent wouldn’t let him finish.

With a roar that was equal parts Vincent, Chaos, and Galian, the gunman stood up and forbid them all to even think about it. Usually, the Turks would’ve argued with him but the fact that his eyes _blazed_ and his skin crawled like both creatures within wanted to break free at the same time stopped them.

“If I’m giving up on anything is on this stupid idea that I could try to have a relationship with Sephiroth.”

Without further explanation, he strode to his bedroom and locked himself in. Everyone stayed frozen in place for several minutes until Elena stood up and went to the kitchen to make tea. When she saw the coffee mug that Sephiroth had used earlier, she took it and threw it with all her strength against the living room wall. Rufus jumped in his seat but stayed put as Elena shot an icy stare Tseng’s way.

“Why would you say that, Tseng? Are we really just going to ignore everything Sephiroth said about us? About Vincent and Chaos and Galian?”

“Of course not, Lena, but fuelling their anger and resentment towards Sephiroth isn’t a good idea, either.”

“All the same, Elena has a point,” Rufus intervened. “Why would you ever suggest giving in to Sephiroth’s selfish demand?”

“Because…” He sighed and stood up, walking up to the hallway leading to Vincent’s room. His hands fisted at his sides before he sighed again and turned to look at the others. “You don’t know it, Rufus, but the rest of you should remember how guarded and distant Vincent was after he returned, how much it took for him to be able to open up to us. Since then, we’ve been trying to get him back into as normal a life as a Turk can possibly get, and I felt we made a lot of progress lately in spite of everything. And earlier… I could see him walling up little by little in front of us and I was desperate to find a way to stop him from it.”

“Abandoning him doesn’t seem like the best way to get that done,” Rufus pushed.

Tseng stepped back, shaking his head. “It wouldn’t have been that. We’d never do that to him.”

Elena huffed and put the kettle on before sitting at the bar. “Sephiroth doesn’t deserve him. He certainly doesn’t deserve us going out of our way to help him.”

“If we leave things up to him, though, Vincent’s just going to give up,” Reno pointed out. “It’s hella clear Sephiroth can’t keep himself in check.”

“The General never struck me as particularly impulsive,” Cissnei said. “Do you think…?”

“That McFugly had something to do with it? The thought crossed my mind.”

“It’d be awfully convenient, don’t you think?”

Everyone turned to Rude with questioning looks. He simply shrugged and went to the broom closet to get what he needed to pick up the broken mug. As he cleaned, he explained himself.

“Now that he knows what his link to Vincent is and that Hojo had a hand in all of that, he can shield himself behind that and everyone would believe him without further questioning. But I wonder if he won’t just be using it as an excuse for his poor judgement.”

“That’s really cynical of you, Rude.”

“It might be, Tseng. You do know Sephiroth better but I’m with Elena here. I don’t think we should be so willing to help him out when there’s a chance he’s just in it to take advantage of Vincent.”

Rufus frowned. “What do you mean? That he just wants to use Vincent for sex or something?”

“It’s not that farfetched,” Rude replied.

“It kinda is, partner. To be honest, up until tonight I thought Sephiroth might be asexual or something, yo. I mean, when was the last time you heard anything related to the man’s sex life?”

Cissnei rolled her eyes. “Not all of us keep tabs on the company’s employees’ sexual exploits, Thunderbolt.”

“Very funny, Frosty. I mean it like… Okay. Everyone knows about Angeal and Genesis even though it’s supposed to be this huge company secret to keep their fangirls from rioting in the streets. And people murmur about Rufus and Tseng but no one makes a big deal of it because it’s the Prez. There’s nothing like that with Sephiroth.”

“Well, asexuality is a spectrum, like many other things. It’s possible that he’s never been sexually attracted to anyone before and Vincent somehow awakens that desire in him,” Tseng said.

“Have either of you ever talked to him about any of that?” Cissnei asked Tseng and Rufus.

“Not really,” Rufus said; Tseng simply shook his head.

“None of this really matters if he’s not capable of getting over himself to give Vincent a chance in spite of everything else,” Elena pointed out. “And I’m not convinced that he can.”

“I understand how you feel, Pixie, but if we’re not willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, how can we expect him to do the same with Vincent?”

Elena seemed about to protest further but Rude, who had just finished emptying the dustpan under the sink, hugged her from behind and whispered something in her ear. She blushed, looking mortified, and elbowed him in the stomach before turning around and kissing him quickly, murmuring something against his lips. Still blushing, she disentangled from him and got mugs out as the kettle started a low rumble. Rude smiled and leaned against the bar, looking at Tseng.

“I’m pretty sure I speak for everyone when I say that we’re happy the way we are now, Anchor, but that doesn’t mean that we don’t understand Vincent’s need for… _more_ ,” he said. “And we would never deny him that out of selfishness or convenience. I mean, ever since he mentioned an interest in Sephiroth, we’ve all been willing to step aside and let him explore that possibility.”

“Really?” Rufus asked. “Just like that?”

“We all love him too much to hold him back,” Reno said, crushing his cigarette on the ashtray Vincent kept for him on the windowsill. “But it’s definitely not ‘just like that’, Rufus. It’s not easy to consider the possibility of an outsider joining us, but if that’s who Vincent wants…” He trailed off and shrugged, lighting another cigarette.

“You must feel the same way, Ru-san, at least in some measure. You gave Sephiroth _Loveless_ tickets and bought Vincent an extra suit so he’d have something to wear to the theatre.”

The young President blushed and went to sit at the bar, toying with one of the mugs Elena had just placed there.

“I just thought Sephiroth would, you know, fit in like I did. I never imagined things would get this crazy.”

“None of us did,” Rude said.

For a while, they all went quiet, their brooding silence interrupted only by the rumbling of the kettle and Cissnei’s furious typing on her phone. She stopped when Elena called her over to choose tea from Vincent’s collection. She set her phone down on the bar while she browsed through the tea box and Rufus took the chance to look at the screen to see what she had been up to.

“Why have you been texting Genesis, Snuggles?”

Cissnei and Reno exchanged a quick glance before turning in the direction of Vincent’s room. She poured a teaspoon of vanilla rooibos into the strainer in her cup before answering.

“He’s our matchmaking partner in crime. He was supposed to keep Sephiroth in line until the summit passed so we could figure out a way to get them together once all that stress was over and done with.”

Rude snorted. “He obviously dropped the ball.” 

“I already sent him a message about that. All caps, tons of exclamation marks. Language too strong for his dainty sensitivities but, given the circumstances, he’s lucky it’s a text and not a call,” Cissnei said.

Reno grinned and smooched her. “I love ya, Frosty.”

Cissnei rolled her eyes and pushed him away playfully.

“What’s Genesis saying, then?”

“Well, to his credit, he’s not making Sephiroth’s excuses. He hasn’t seen him, though, but he’s confident he’ll turn up at his and Angeal’s apartment in the next few hours. He’ll enlist Aerith, just in case Sephiroth decides to head to his parents’ for some reason.”

“Vincent won’t like this,” Tseng pointed out.

“You’re not gonna rat us out, are ya, Aqualung?”

“And risk Galian killing the messenger? No, thanks, _Kasai_.”

 

* * *

 

They decided to stay in Vincent’s apartment in case he needed someone to talk to or just some company. He didn’t emerge from his room until well after eight in the morning and wasn’t too surprised to find Reno and Elena cooking breakfast while the others idled around the apartment. Everything was clean and tidy so he guessed Rude had spent a couple of hours cleaning; someone had done the laundry and ironing, too—the scent of fabric softener and steam lingered even through the fragrance of eggs and bacon. Reno had been smoking, too, the aroma of his new cardamom and clove cigarettes adding to the bouquet permeating the apartment.

**_It smells like home to me._ **

Vincent nodded and leaned on the hallway frame, taking a moment to just look at everyone for a few minutes. Tseng and Rufus lay on the couch, browsing on their phones and showing each other things the other might like. Rude was rearranging Vincent’s old records while Cissnei read a magazine by the window, stealing occasional glances to her cellphone. Elena and Reno moved about the kitchen easily, talking softly amongst themselves.

While everyone looked relaxed, he could see and feel the tension in the atmosphere. He hated that he’d caused that and decided to find ways to make it up to them. He started by stepping into the living room and greeting them as warmly as possible. After they returned the greeting, he took a deep breath and bowed deeply.

“I apologise about my outburst last night. I had no right to raise my voice like that or to shut you off like I did. I’ll try never to do that again.”

Everyone rushed to tell him there was no need to apologise and he shook his head until it died down.

“It _is_ necessary, but I understand your point. Now, how about we have breakfast and then Rufus and Tseng can take me out shopping while the rest enjoy what’s left of your day off?”

“Sounds like a plan, yo.”

“You’re coming, too,” Rufus said. “Don’t think I’ll let you keep that tattered wardrobe of yours any longer, Firefly.”

Reno groused and complained, begged and tried to negotiate, but was unable to get himself out of the shopping trip. While he left for Sector Six with Rufus, Tseng, and Vincent, Elena and Rude went to her apartment to watch movies. Cissnei said she had an errand to run in town and parted ways with the shopping party at the train station.

All through the outing, Vincent kept telling himself that he’d only gone along with Rufus’s idea because he needed some normalcy and to make up for his brash behaviour the previous night, but the truth was that he needed time to wall up all the thoughts and feelings that, if left unchecked, would run rampant through his mind, distracting him from the busy weeks ahead.

So he granted Rufus his whim and allowed himself to be dragged all around Midgar’s largest and fanciest mall getting more clothes that he knew what to do with, all the while operating mostly on autopilot to work out his issues in the background. So far, the blond had already spent a small fortune on jeans and casual slacks that didn’t need two belts to stay on Vincent’s hips (although, just to be sure, Rufus added belts and suspenders to the cart), and they had moved on to shirts and tees. Vincent had argued that he didn’t like wearing t-shirts outside of his apartment or the Turks’ floor because of his left arm; Rufus shrugged and said he should get some, anyway, and they’d just add some extra long-sleeved ones he could wear under the tees when going out. Tseng was frankly surprised that Vincent hadn’t tried to make a run for it yet but he could see his boss had come really close to it just then.

Reno, on the other hand, had managed to give them the slip for about an hour before reemerging with a cart overflowing with colourful tees and tank tops, cargo pants with dozens of pockets that no one but him would be able to fill, and assorted underwear. While not entirely pleased with the hectic style the redhead had gone for, Rufus was glad he didn’t have to wrestle him into the dressing room like he’d had to do with Vincent at the beginning of their campaign.

After piling Vincent’s arms with enough tees and shirts to keep him from doing laundry for the remainder of the year, Rufus escorted them to the shoe section. While he patiently explained to the gunman why he couldn’t buy only work-related footwear and had to add variety to his closet, Tseng helped Reno choose something their boss would approve of and got a few things for himself, as well. They were nearly done when a voice called Vincent’s name from not too far away, making them all pause and slowly turn towards the source of the interruption.

It was Genesis, looking impeccable in fitted slacks and a short sleeved button-up as opposed to his modified Soldier uniform. A small messenger bag with a _Loveless_ motif hung across his chest and he held on to the strap with his right hand in a way that made it obvious to the Turks that he was on a mission and would not be deterred. It raised alarms in them but the first one to make a move was Rufus, who stood between the Soldier and the Head Turk with his arms crossed over his chest, looking at Genesis with a raised eyebrow.

“Here to make Sephiroth’s excuses, Genesis? If so, save yourself the trouble and tell him to apologise in person.”

“Sir,” Vincent all but hissed.

Rufus turned and glared coldly at him, eyes narrowed in silent admonishment and warning. “I told you to call me Rufus outside working hours, Vincent.”

“Fine, then. _Rufus_ , there is no need to be rude to Genesis. None of this is his fault.”

“I know that, but—”

“Calm down, Rufus. It’s a Sunday but we can still draw a crowd,” Tseng intervened.

Frowning, Rufus was forced to concede Tseng’s point but he still refused to move from his defensive position between Genesis and Vincent.

“Why _are_ you here?” he asked again.

“I need to speak to Vincent—in private. I found a way to thank you, I think.”

The gunman’s eyebrows raised slightly in surprise. Reminding himself to compartmentalise and not get his hopes up over pipe dreams, he glanced meaningfully to his shopping cart before looking back at Genesis.

“As you can see, I am rather busy. Will this take long?”

“No more than five or ten minutes, really,” Genesis said with a small shake of his head.

Vincent nodded and, after squeezing Rufus’s shoulder lightly, he led Genesis outside. Once they were out of earshot, Tseng turned to Reno with a slightly exasperated sigh.

“Cissnei’s errand has anything to do with this?”

Reno had the decency to blush and look contrite. “Genesis texted Cissnei this morning and told her Sephiroth turned up. She met with him at a café not too far from here and, well… It’s like you said, Tseng. Vincent’s ready to just give up on Sephiroth and we can’t let that happen. Not so randomly and stupidly.”

“He insulted all of us, Reno. I understand not going after him to beat him up, but why would you even consider still helping him?” Rufus asked.

“We _told_ you, Rufus—we just want Vincent to be happy. He’s hurt now but he’s really gonna regret not working things through with Sephiroth once everyone cools down.”

Rufus frowned and busied himself with folding the clothes he’d chosen for Vincent. Tseng crossed his arms over his chest and thought for a moment. They hadn’t reached an explicit consensus the previous night but he figured that Reno and Cissnei had done the right thing by keeping their original plan in motion. It would take some convincing to get Elena, Rude, and Rufus on the same page as the rest of them but it was manageable.

He just hoped Vincent wouldn’t hold it against them when he eventually figured out just how much meddling they had been doing.

* * *

 

 

After finding a spot in the shade and away from prying eyes and ears, the Turk leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and raised his eyebrows again, indicating the Soldier should start talking.

“Sephiroth told me what happened last night. I _should_ be making his excuses, since he’s unlikely to make them himself any time soon, but I won’t. I just need clarification on some things.”

The gunman tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, tensing up all over. He wanted to ask what exactly had Sephiroth said but didn’t for two reasons: he didn’t have the time, and Genesis probably wouldn’t go into details.

“Clarification on what and what for?” he asked instead.

“I need to know what to do with this situation, whether to step in and help you two patch things up or to let things run their course on their own, risking you two never seeing eye to eye.”

 _Why does he care?_ , Galian asked, obviously annoyed.

 ** _He cares the same about Sephiroth as the Turks do about Vincent_** , Chaos explained.

Galian huffed but didn’t interrupt again.

“What do you need clarified?”

“Your situation with Rufus and the Turks, is—?”

“What I told Sephiroth last night stands now and will forever stand,” Vincent interrupted. “I will not give them up for him or anyone. Even if Chaos and Galian somehow stop being a part of my life, the Turks and Rufus will _always_ be my family and I will _always_ be with them.”

Vincent’s tone brokered no argument so all Genesis did was nod.

“But you still told him you love him. You are, or at least were, open to the possibility of exploring something more than friendship between you two.”

“Not at the expense of what we currently have,” Vincent said.

There was a hint of Chaos and Galian in his voice, and the barest flash of golden orange tinted his eyes as he looked at Genesis pointedly. The auburn-haired swordsman had never seen or heard either of the creatures living within Vincent in person but, much to his credit, he didn’t even flinch as they lurked so close to the surface.

“Have you given up on him, then?”

“Not entirely, but I do not intend to give this any more thought until the summit passes. Until then, my dealings with him will be limited to our work together, which I will endeavour to keep to a minimum as much as I possibly can.”

Again, all Genesis did was nod. He seemed pensive for a moment before a shadow of sadness passed through his features.

“We’ll make sure he keeps his distance.”

He seemed about to say something more but he stopped when he noticed Vincent frown and his eyes flicker between red and gold. The gunman shook his head grimly with his eyes closed and asked if there was anything else Genesis needed or wanted to say.

“Just… I’m sorry things got to this point, Vincent.” When the Turk’s crimson eyes fixed on him curiously, he elaborated. “I warned Sephiroth to take this slow so neither him nor you would end up hurt but he didn’t listen to me. I know Aerith told him something similar but he’s rather stubborn and…” He paused, unsure whether he should say anything more, but something in Vincent’s eyes told him it would be better to finish his statement. “He really likes you, Director. I’ve never seen him so interested in anyone before and I’m afraid he has no idea how to deal with it. Hence his callousness.

“Whatever else happens after the summit, I hope that, in the end, you’ll find a way to at least remain friends.”

Vincent had to force Galian down while Chaos had a bitter laugh. “I doubt we can be considered friends at the moment, Commander.”

“Beg pardon?”

“You see, at least where I come from, friends don’t call each other ‘greedy whores’, nor do they refer to their friends’ family as ‘fuck toys’.”

Genesis cringed. Sephiroth had been very agitated in his retelling of his meeting with Vincent, and had used those terms more than once. Since neither Cissnei nor Reno had brought it up in their texts or their earlier conversation, he thought his friend hadn’t actually used them during his argument with the Director. Now he wasn’t sure whether Vincent hadn’t shared that part of the encounter with them or if they had decided to let it slide for some reason.

All the same, while hearing those words coming out from either man was extremely disconcerting, the acid tone in the Turk’s voice made it almost unbearable. Not knowing what to say and not wanting to apologise on his friend’s behalf, he simply sighed and nodded slowly.

“Like I said, we’ll make sure Sephiroth keeps his distance and does nothing to jeopardise everyone’s hard work in regards to the summit. Thank you for your time, Vincent. I’ll leave you to your shopping.”

Vincent nodded and watched Genesis walk away. He had to take a moment to compose himself and shove back his anger into the neat mental boxes he had been preparing all day long before he returned to the store. He walked up to the other three men just as Reno tried to talk Rufus into buying a hideous pair of sneakers as a prank to Cissnei. The blond was in the process of saying no for the fifth time when he spotted Vincent coming back.

“Well? What happened?”

The gunman took the sneakers away from Reno and shoved them on a shelf that the redhead would never be able to reach on his own. His expression was neutral and gave nothing away, making the others very nervous.

“Nothing. Genesis just wanted to assure me Sephiroth won’t pose a problem for the next couple of weeks. Why don’t we finish up here and then get some ice cream?”

Rufus seemed about to press the issue of Genesis’s visit but Tseng’s firm grip on his wrist stopped him. After pouting a little, he nodded and grabbed Vincent’s hand, steering him towards the sports shoes area.

Tseng stayed behind with Reno, exchanging troubled looks with the redhead. Reno pulled out his phone and started texting while they trailed after their bosses.

 

* * *

 

Genesis stormed back into his apartment, slamming the door with all his recovered strength and using his Commander-Rhapsodos-is-having-none-of-your-bullshit voice to summon Sephiroth to the living room. The silver-haired swordsman had been sulking/seething in the guest room since earlier that morning when Genesis had left to do some recon on exactly how much damage Sephiroth had caused the previous night and whether things could be salvaged. On principle and listening only to his wounded pride, Sephiroth had tried to talk him out of it but one look from his friend’s glacial eyes made him drop the subject almost immediately. Deep down he was thankful that Genesis was willing to at least try to help fix his mistake, although he was still too angry to admit that, even to himself.

So Genesis met up with Cissnei for tea to exchange impressions and brainstorm face to face. They spent several hours texting the previous night but both of them, plus Reno, felt it would be better to talk things over directly. Reno was meant to join them but Rufus had dragged him into shopping so it had just been the two auburn-haired operatives at first, with a brief phone call with the redhead when he managed to escape for a little while to see how things were going.

Cissnei had told Genesis very clearly what Vincent’s current stance in the whole situation was but he still wanted to talk to him to gauge his reaction directly in order to have a better idea of what he was up against. He didn’t know the Head Turk very well but he could _feel_ a change in him from the last time they’d been in a meeting and it was chilling. He still hadn’t found a way to put it into words but it made him extremely anxious, and when he got anxious, he became catty and bossier than usual.

“Where on _Gaia_ are you, Sephiroth Faremis?”

Sephiroth appeared in the living room wearing nothing but sweatpants and a mostly neutral expression. Genesis had known him long enough to realise that he was still very angry but also curious as to why his friend was hollering like the apartment were being raided. Before he could even open his mouth to ask what was going on, Genesis unloaded on him.

“You are a selfish idiot, Sephiroth, did you know that? Not to mention a sorry excuse for a friend and a ridiculous manchild with no control over his hormones or emotions.”

Sephiroth tensed and straightened his back, going into defensive mode in a second.

“Are you really taking his side, Genesis?”

“You make it extremely hard no to, Seph. I didn’t say anything earlier because I didn’t want to believe you’d really said all those stupid, horrible things to Vincent and I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. But you did and you’ve made a wreck of things. Frankly, I’m surprised Vincent managed to keep everyone from coming after you like an angry mob. Even I’m fighting the impulse to punch you in the face right now.”

“I can’t believe you’re all right with his debauched arrangement, Genesis!”

“That’s Angeal’s bullshit worldview coming out of your mouth and you know it.”

“Even if it is, aren’t you the eternal romantic?”

“I am; then again, you’re supposed to be the cold, rational part of the group and are failing miserably at it. I told you to wait, to not push him until you were certain of how you really felt about him. Instead of listening to me, you let your urges call the shots and backed Vincent into a corner. He’s _this_ close to just giving up on you—by now, I’m pretty sure he hasn’t done so only because the Turks are, for some unfathomable reason, interceding on your behalf.”

That stopped Sephiroth’s angry retort and had him eyeing Genesis suspiciously.

“That’s right,” Genesis said. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the armchair, explaining what Tseng had tried to suggest to Vincent the night before and the Head Turk’s reaction to it. “In spite of his orders, they’re still willing to find a way for you two to end up together. They’re far more optimistic than I am, but they do know Vincent better.”

Sephiroth huffed and sat on the couch, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away from Genesis. Anger was giving way to irritation, most of which was aimed at himself. They all mocked Genesis for being too prideful and vain, but Sephiroth suffered from a touch of the same and it prevented him from admitting that the current situation was all his fault. Vincent’s adamant position regarding the Turks had caused much of his anger, but it was really his refusal to even consider the possibility of getting rid of Chaos and Galian that finally blew his fuse. He didn’t understand why the gunman would willingly harbour the two creatures within himself when it was obvious he was suffering because of it. If he could get rid of Jenova he wouldn’t think it twice—he’d take the treatment right away.

“Would you, now?” Genesis asked when he finally voiced his thoughts. “Even if it meant losing everything that sets you apart from the rest and allows you to protect your loved ones?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Genesis. You’re barely recovering from the side effects of Project G. It nearly killed you!”

“And I can tell you that I’d rather deal with those side effects than be left without my strength. You have _no_ idea what its like to feel so weak you can’t pick up your weapon or even block a halfhearted punch from your lover. The prospect of having to quit Soldier, to stay on the sidelines while Angeal and you continued to fight was almost too much to bear. I came really close to marching up to your father’s office and demanding he injected Jenova cells back in just so I could go back to ‘normal’.

“Also, my dear friend, it’s thanks to Vincent and Chaos that I’m recovering at all.”

Sephiroth pursed his lips into a line so tight it was almost invisible. He hadn’t thought of that at any point in the last few hours and he was beginning to see what had been so clear to Genesis and the others: Chaos was not a burden on Vincent but an asset and an ally.

Genesis continued, adding to the silver-haired man’s insight.

“What I’m getting at, Sephiroth, is that Vincent has very likely thought about this and decided the benefits of his situation far outweigh the side effects. You coming in and making demands that, at least to him, are unreasonable, is not the way to get into his pants.”

Sephiroth sat up ramrod straight and shot a fiery stare to his friend. “That is _not_ what this is about.”

“I’m not saying that’s _all_ you’re after, but you can’t barge into someone’s apartment and kiss them without warning and then claim that you don’t want to have sex with them.”

The General blushed, the colour tinting his face and neck all the way down to his shoulders. Genesis grinned and shook his head slightly before turning serious again.

“Why did you do it, Sephiroth? I do not mean to offend but you’ve never been one to give in to passion like that.”

Sephiroth ran a hand through his hair before standing up to walk towards the window. Genesis’s apartment overlooked a courtyard where several middle and upper level employees were currently sitting or walking around. Among them were a few couples hand in hand or sitting under trees, cuddling and kissing, looking as happy as can be. With a small shake of his head, he closed the curtain and leaned against the wall.

He hadn’t explained to Genesis or Angeal what happened before he kissed Vincent and then went on to have the most regrettable conversation of his life. He pretty much had barged into their apartment in the wee hours of the morning and proceeded to ramble on about Vincent’s confession and his disastrous reaction to it. His friends heard him out without interrupting and Angeal, being a traditionalist and consummated monogamist, had immediately sided with him. Genesis, on the other hand, had refrained from backing his friend when he only had his side of the story. His earlier admonishment made it seem like he had chosen Vincent’s side, but Sephiroth now realised that it was likely that Genesis wasn’t interested in giving his backing to anyone in particular but in trying to breach the chasm his friend had wreaked. If that was the case, then understanding Sephiroth’s behaviour was important.

Keeping that in mind, Sephiroth backtracked and tried to explain what went through his mind before he ended up at Vincent’s apartment.

After Vincent stepped out of the elevator and it began its ascent to his floor, Sephiroth slumped against the far wall with his face in his hands. He took deep breaths to calm himself down and clear his head. It didn’t really help, as he was still as muddled and confused when the elevator’s doors opened as he’d been the entire ride back home. He nearly got locked inside the elevator, barely managing to hold the doors open to step outside. As he made his way to his apartment, he kept thinking about Vincent’s hesitation in the car and the weak smile he gave him as the elevator closed.

He’d moved back to his apartment only two days before and he hadn’t had a chance to unpack properly. His suitcases were still in the living room, one of them open, its contents half lying inside and half all over his couch. He was usually much neater and mindful of his apartment’s organisation but the many meetings he’d had that week had left him tired enough that he just couldn’t bother with cleaning the apartment or storing his things.

Needing a distraction from his rambling thoughts, he set about to tidying up, clearing the living room and carefully placing back his clothes in his closet. The action was counterproductive, as he was immediately reminded of Vincent up on the measuring platform, Rufus and the Turks chatting lively with him. His irrational side latched on to that, once more asking why they got to interact with that Vincent while he was stuck with a Head Turk that kept sending him mixed signals.

Irritated at himself, he decided to go visit Genesis and Angeal to talk things out and maybe get some peace of mind. As he was removing his jacket, the tickets Rufus gave him fell out of his pocket, along with Vincent’s wallet. The gunman had insisted on paying for the ice cream and Sephiroth had held on to his wallet while they returned to the car when Vincent had left it at the counter to pick up the cupcakes.

His first thought was to wait until morning to return Vincent’s wallet. However, his mind kept going back to the Turk’s easy smiles for the others and his behaviour during most of the day. Although he knew he should probably check in with Genesis first, his desire to see Vincent and obtain answers and explanations overruled everything else and he found himself shoving the gunman’s wallet into his pocket and making his way to the other man’s apartment.

He really just wanted to talk to Vincent, but when he saw the way his crimson eyes widened slightly in surprise at the sight of him, something inside just came undone. Suddenly, all he could focus on was the other man’s mouth: the subtle Cupid’s bow on his upper lip and the fullness of his lower one; the telltale, minuscule smudge of ice cream caught at the corner of his mouth; how his lips parted, creating a minute space between each other that seemed to beckon him closer. A shift in Vincent’s jaw was all it took for Sephiroth to take a step forward and grab the other’s shoulders while dipping his head to lick the ice cream away before pressing his lips against the gunman’s.

He could feel the other man’s shock and knew he had to stop, but rationality went out the window as soon as he managed to part Vincent’s lips and taste him properly. He was sweet but not just because of the ice cream, and there was a hint of spice, too, something Sephiroth couldn’t pinpoint but wanted more of. His stomach clenched in excitement when he felt Vincent relaxing in his arms and started kissing him back; unwilling to stop, he pressed the gunman against the wall and allowed his hands to begin exploring his skin, eager to expose it to his curious eyes and tingling fingertips. He vaguely remembered Vincent making sure his sleeves were completely down during their impromptu exhibition match several days prior and he had a sudden urge to undress the man and unveil whatever he was hiding from the world.

When Vincent stopped him not just once but twice, he felt a surge of anger. His first instinct was to ignore the gunman’s silent protest and chase after him, taking what he wanted regardless of the other’s wishes. Whatever had unraveled before, however, quickly repaired itself and restored a modicum of coherence to his mind, allowing him to hear Vincent’s explanation.

“So it _was_ lust,” Genesis said after a while. When Sephiroth shot him an exasperated look, he shook his head. “Again, I’m not saying that’s all you feel for him. Still, that’s what happened last night—lust got the better of you. That and jealousy.”

Sephiroth went very still again.

“Jealousy?”

It was Genesis’s turn to look exasperated. “Sephiroth, you’ve been complaining about how close Vincent is to the Turks and others since your first non-date. I’ve caught you shooting daggers to whoever happens to bring out a smile to the man’s face, too, so don’t tell me you’re not jealous and envious and everything in between the two.”

The General frowned and shifted his stance, blushing yet again and feeling like a child caught misbehaving.

He had no delusions about Vincent being a blushing virgin or any other such nonsense, but a part of him had hoped that perhaps he could be the Turk’s first in a long time. At the very least, he was sure he could have a part of the man that the Turks had no access to, something only he could see and share. Even so, when Vincent first pushed him away, a part of him was prepared to hear there was someone else, that he had grossly misread Vincent’s actions and reactions and that it had all been in his head, that the attraction was one-sided. There was a second of elation when the gunman confessed his feelings towards him, but it quickly turned into resentment and even disgust when the rest of the information came in.

Genesis kept saying that he was being unreasonable but so was Vincent. He couldn’t confess his love towards someone and then say there was half a dozen other people towards whom he felt the same way and expect them to just be alright with it.

The scariest part of it all was the fact that he knew there was a middle ground but he wasn’t willing to settle for it. Or, there had been. According to Genesis, he might have very well burnt that ground into oblivion.

He ran his hands through his hair again and went back to the couch, resting his elbows on his thighs and covering his face with his hands and hair.

“I really blew it, didn’t I?”

Genesis sighed and went to sit by his friend, running his hand in soothing circles on Sephiroth’s back.

“Yes, you did. It’s not hopeless, though. If you can manage to give Vincent space and wait until the summit passes, I think you could make amends… if that’s what you want.”

Sephiroth frowned and looked at Genesis with a raised eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Genesis shrugged. “Vincent is not going to change his mind about Chaos and Galian, nor about Rufus and the Turks. If you want to be in good terms with him, you’ll have to learn to accept his decision. And then you’ll have to determine what kind of relationship you want with him, and take it graciously if he decides he wants something different… or nothing at all.”

The General sighed heavily and nodded, already mulling his feelings over.

 

* * *

 

Vincent buried himself in work, filling his every waking moment with meetings and preparations, focusing the entirety of his attention into the summit. The Turks realised this early on and made every effort to ensure their boss didn’t work himself to exhaustion or forgot to eat. He was uncharacteristically testy with them about it but they stood their ground and managed to keep him within acceptable health parameters. The last thing they needed, they reasoned with him, was Gast getting word of Vincent crumbling under the pressure and stress and trying to force him into skipping the summit. The gunman reluctantly conceded the point and allowed the Turks to impose regular breaks on his schedule. Sleep, however, began to elude him and he spent most of his nights training in the Turks’ gym or sneaking out into the nearby mountain range to let Chaos and Galian stretch their limbs.

He was serious when he told Genesis and the others that he would do his best to keep his contact with Sephiroth to a minimum. The one time he was supposed to attend a meeting along with the General, he sent Cissnei in his place while he and Reno went over the Midgar sewer and underground schematics. It wasn’t an idle task, though; the team working on Avalanche’s data uncovered an email discussing the possibility of infiltrating the city through the sewer system in the lower plates still under construction. Reno had an ongoing undercover mission to keep an eye on the vagrant community that lived underground and refused to move to the established districts. As such, he had a good understanding of the city’s innards and could help pinpoint weak areas that Avalanche might exploit if they decided to follow through with their plans.

Genesis had been to that meeting, too, since he would be basically stepping into Vincent’s position while the gunman was away at Modeoheim. What he didn’t tell anyone, however, was that Angeal had tried to go to the map review instead of him to have a chance to talk to Vincent. After the weekend fiasco, Angeal had expressed his desire to give the Head Turk a piece of his mind regarding his polyamorous affair and its impact on his best friend. Genesis, for all intents and purposes fully recovered, managed to talk his lover out of it and made him swear he wouldn’t meddle in Vincent and Sephiroth’s business. After that, the auburn-haired Commander found himself running constant interference between the other senior Soldiers and Vincent; it was tiring but he saw it as a way to further pay Vincent back for helping Gast find a way to stop his degradation.

After going over a variety of possible infiltration scenarios, Vincent asked Reno to take on his undercover persona and go meet with the vagrants to check if Avalanche had contacted them and to enlist their help or at least make sure they wouldn’t side with the terrorists. Once the redhead was gone, Vincent asked Genesis to stay for a moment. He mentioned part of his conversation with Gast the previous week and expressed his desire to speak to all Soldier Firsts on Friday. Before Genesis could think of a way to ask about Sephiroth’s involvement in said meeting, Vincent took a deep, calming breath and told the Commander in no uncertain terms that he didn’t want the General to attend the meeting and would prefer if either Gast or Genesis himself filled Sephiroth in on the matter. 

Genesis nodded and thought for a minute before proposing a way to keep Sephiroth away from headquarters on Friday. There was a pending security inspection in Junon that had been postponed numerous times due to Genesis’s condition and lack of staffing. Even though it would put some strain on the plans that had been drawn up for the days leading up to the summit, the Commander proposed to get Lazard to send Sephiroth to Junon. It was a good idea for someone to check on Junon in case Avalanche decided to expand its efforts to undermine the company and Vincent felt better having a valid reason to keep Sephiroth away from him, so he sent a message to Elena and Kunsel to double check all intercepted Avalanche communications for intel regarding Junon and to forward any findings to Lazard and himself.

As Vincent would later on find out, Sephiroth didn’t take his assignment in stride. He tried to talk Lazard into sending someone else to Junon but Genesis had been very clear with the blond and Lazard didn’t budge. Unsatisfied with the outcome, the General marched up to Rufus’s office to demand that he override Lazard’s order. Rufus hadn’t been briefed about Vincent’s involvement in the decision but his anger over the weekend’s developments led him to want the swordsman as far away from himself and the Turks as possible so he backed Lazard’s decision and even had Sephiroth pack up and leave that same day; he also gave him instructions not to return until Monday night, making sure Vincent would be long gone before the General returned.

Sephiroth had no choice but to comply with the orders, especially when Genesis, feigning ignorance regarding the origin of Lazard’s orders, highlighted the benefits of being away from Vincent for a few days so he could get his thoughts and feelings in order. His parents and sister echoed the sentiment and, feeling completely cornered, the silver-haired swordsman shirtily boarded a Gelnika towards Junon.

 

* * *

 

Friday came along and Gast had all remaining Soldiers First gather in the Science Department’s conference room. Lazard and Rufus insisted on attending, as well, much to the Professor’s protests. He had tried to keep them out of the meeting by leaving the decision in Vincent’s hands, but the Head Turk either failed to notice the pleading in the other man’s eyes or chose to ignore it altogether because he said he had no issue whatsoever with the other executives’ presence. As far as he was concerned, everyone involved with Soldier had a right to know of any changes done to the enhancing formula and be updated with any new information pertaining to the program. Gast’s attempts at keeping things secret, no matter how noble his justifications, reminded him of the early days of the Science Department and made him increasingly wary when around him. Galian shared his misgivings, which put Chaos in the unlikely position of playing devil’s advocate in Gast’s behalf, although he wasn’t exactly on board with the man’s approach to things.

The conference room was packed and seemed to thrum with anticipation, most of it stemming from Cloud and Kunsel. Zack was also nervous as his last booster hadn’t gone exactly according to plan; the mako in his system didn’t react well with the modifications Gast made to the booster compound and he had to stay overnight at the lab. Gast assured him there would be no long term side effects but the memory of the nausea and cold sweats that kept him awake for over sixteen hours straight was still fresh in his mind. Angeal had warned him about bringing it up in front of the newly promoted Soldiers so he did his best to keep the conversation light and away from the enhancements they were about to undergo. However, there was something about the President’s demeanour, Genesis and Angeal’s closed-off body language, and Gast’s clear overall displeasure that made all his attempts at humour an exercise in futility. That was why, when Vincent came in, Zack felt so relieved that he had to remind himself that hugging the Head Turk was not a good idea.

Vincent stopped mid-stride as he walked into the conference room. Even though he knew who would be attending the meeting, he still felt like the room was more packed than necessary. Not only that, but everyone was incredibly tense; he had no idea whether Gast had said something to put them all on edge or if it was just his admittedly strange request to speak to the majority of the Soldier Department prior to a, at least on the surface, routine enhancement procedure.

 ** _Too late to back away now_**.

The gunman sighed softly and nodded before taking the last available seat at the head of the table. After greeting everyone and thanking them for attending, Vincent explained what Hojo did with Chaos’s regeneration factor and how that linked him to the senior Soldiers. Genesis and Angeal sat up straighter and looked confused for a moment before reacting with the wariness Vincent had anticipated.

“You mean to tell us that you always know where we are? That’s… Intrusive, to say the least,” Angeal pointed out.

“I—or, to be more precise, Chaos—can always feel where you senior Firsts are, but it’s like an afterthought, just a general awareness of your existence. If he concentrates, he can pinpoint your exact location and know whether you’re physically stable but it has to be a conscious effort. I understand that it feels like an infringement on your privacy, Commander Hewley, which is why we have never made active use of this tracking capability and we will never do so unless we obtain your permission.”

Technically, that was a lie. After their disastrous last meeting, Vincent had made a habit of using Chaos’s link to Sephiroth to avoid the General throughout the building. The day Sephiroth left, Vincent felt a weight lift off him the moment the aircraft left Midgar’s airspace. It took him a while to realise that, while he could pinpoint Sephiroth’s location if he tried, it was no longer a constant presence pushing against his awareness. He felt strangely relieved but also uncomfortably bereft, like he’d gotten so used to that pressure on his chest that, now that it was gone, he didn’t know what to do with that emptiness other than fill it with even more work.

Mentally shaking off the that line of thought, he focused back on the senior Firsts in case they needed more reassurance that he had no plans to keep tabs on their location like some sort of stalker. Angeal still looked leery but Genesis seemed to be mulling things over from a different angle. The oldest Commander continued to baffle Vincent by nodding slowly and delivering a statement of absolute confidence.

“You have my permission to track me down if I ever go MIA, Director.” Noticing the disapproving look his lover shot his way, Genesis shrugged and added, “It’s a rare opportunity, Angeal, and I’m not passing it up. You shouldn’t, either.”

“Genesis is right,” Lazard intervened. “If Director Valentine can find you if a mission ever goes wrong, it would save us a lot of time and resources. It could potentially save your lives, too.”

“What if we decided to disappear and didn’t want to be found?” Angeal countered.

Everyone in the room looked at him with wide eyes or raised eyebrows; the Commander sighed and threw his hands up. “Bad example, but still.”

Vincent drummed his fingers on the table a few times, trying to find a way around Angeal’s logic. It hadn’t occurred to him that anyone in Soldier might want to leave the company and escape the heavy burden of their responsibility. Chaos was similarly stumped and didn’t have any advise to offer.

“All I can do,” the gunman eventually said, “is track you down and make sure you’re alive and well. Whether you want to come back after that is up to you.”

Angeal huffed and asked the question Vincent had hoped to avoid - what about Sephiroth?

“I will tackle that subject with the General once the summit has passed. Right now there is a more pressing matter, and that is Professor Gast’s plans for Zack and all new Firsts.”

Angeal seemed about ready to protest but Zack’s excited intervention saved Vincent from further discussing the Commander.

“We’re getting the GPS, too?”

“Not only that,” Gast said with a hint of fond exasperation. “The new formula would also boost your immune system and accelerate your healing factor so your burnout would be greatly minimised.”

Zack and the new Soldiers First looked at each other with varying degrees of enthusiasm before Cloud turned to Vincent with a smile.

“It sounds great. I mean, if it’s not an imposition on you.”

Vincent stared at Cloud for a few seconds before shifting his attention to Zack and then to Kunsel. All of them looked back at him with a certain careful hopefulness that left him speechless for a long stretch of time during which Rufus and Gast exchanged an amused look.

“I told you not to make a big deal out of it,” Gast admonished.

The Head Turk felt himself blush and did everything in his power not to huff or puff his cheeks in annoyance.

“It is a big deal,” he countered, unwilling to concede a point to the scientist. “Like Angeal said, there is the issue of privacy. More importantly, you have no idea how they’ll react to the new formula.”

Kunsel frowned. “That’s… a good point.”

“There shouldn’t be any problems,” Gast said, shooting daggers Vincent’s way.

“But if there are?” Genesis asked. The edge in his voice made it clear he was thinking about his own condition not that long ago.

“I’ll be monitoring,” Chaos said, startling everyone in the room. “Afternoon, by the way. Sorry for barging in but I wanted to reassure the juniors that I’ll be around during the procedure and afterwards to make sure everything goes according to plan.”

There was silence for a moment until Zack nodded and said, “Cool. Thanks, man.”

Vincent stepped back into the fore and took a deep breath. “Glad to have that settled, but there is one more thing.”

“Vincent…” Gast warned.

Ignoring him, the gunman went on.

“There’s a near imperceptible link between myself and the senior Soldiers First that stems from Hojo’s experiments. That link drives me to be protective of them. If you three decide to go through with the procedure using the new formula, that link will extend to you, as well. That means that you’ll be not only under my protection but that of Chaos and Galian, as well.”

Turning to Lazard and Gast, he went on. “It _also_ means that my loyalty regarding them will be as it has always been with the Turks—towards them as individuals, not towards the company as an entity. If anyone, _anyone at all_ , ever threatens their well-being, they’ll have _us_ to answer to.”

Lazard raised an eyebrow and adjusted his glasses. After a minute nod, he said, “Understood. For my part, I can say that my personnel’s welfare is paramount, so there shouldn’t be a problem.”

“You and I have had this conversation before,” Gast said. “I don’t feel like rehashing it now, so if we could move along?”

Vincent nodded, not paying any mind to Gast’s obvious irritation. Turning to Cloud and the rest, he asked if they still wanted the new enhancement.

“If Professor Faremis thinks there won’t be any serious side-effects, I’m on board,” Kunsel said.

“Yeah, it’s all good, Director. I mean, it’s like extra insurance, and that’s always a good thing,” Zack added.

“Thanks for consulting with us, Vincent. It’ll be a great reassurance to know that you’ll have our backs, too,” was Cloud’s response.

**_Don’t you dare cry._ **

_Asshole._

**_Someone’s on edge…_ **

Rather than answering, Vincent nodded politely towards the youngest Firsts and then looked at Gast expectantly. Taking the hint, the Professor led the way to the lab reserved for Soldier’s enhancements. Five tanks took up most of the room but only three were ready to be used. Rufus and Lazard excused themselves, not having the right disposition to witness the procedure itself, but Vincent and the senior Firsts stayed.

**_Do I have to poke around in here to figure out what’s wrong with you?_ **

_Feel free. If you find anything, please let me know._

“We’re ready to begin.”

Gast’s announcement drew Vincent and Chaos out of their bickering and into a state of hyperawareness. They observed as the three Soldiers entered the tanks and aides hooked them to monitors and oxygen masks. Once everything was in place, the tanks closed and were filled with a modified version of the formula Hojo had created for the enhancement procedures. Originally, the mint green liquid was laced with mako and a stabilizing agent to prevent mako poisoning after prolonged exposure; Gast had substituted mako for a chemical distilled from a plant found in the Northern Continent with the same strengthening properties but without the dangerous side effects for both Soldiers and the Planet itself. The formula Gast extracted from Vincent’s DNA was also part of the mix now, as well as the regular boosters all Soldiers First got every few months.

It would take four hours for the Soldiers to absorb the enhancements, plus another hour for the tanks to cool down and yet another four to six hours for the men to adjust and recover. Nearly twelve hours altogether, meaning Vincent would be spending the entire day at the Science Department. The Turks had expressed their concern regarding that but the gunman insisted on being present during the entire process; as a compromise, he agreed to have some of them check in on him every few hours and to have them bring him lunch. In the meantime, he grabbed a chair and took it to a corner of the room from which he could keep an eye on all three tanks.

Genesis and Angeal were on the other side of the room, and he did his best to ignore their hushed conversation and the rather hostile looks Angeal was shooting his way. He was unable to miss the two times the black-haired Soldier made to move towards him, though, or how he was stopped both times by his companion. Under different circumstances, he would’ve taken matters into his own hands and gone up to the Commanders to have a talk with them—more specifically, with Angeal—, but he was far more concerned with Chaos’s monitoring of the men in the tanks than with whatever drama the senior Firsts had going on. Besides, he was already on edge for some unknown reason and he didn’t want to add to that.

All of Chaos’s attention was focused on the individual Lifestreams of the men in the tanks so Vincent stepped back and kept an eye on Galian. The Planet Protector had been quiet all day, even when Angeal mentioned Sephiroth; it should have been a good sign but it added to Vincent’s inexplicable anxiety. He could feel Galian sleeping (or at least so relaxed or inactive that it seemed like he was sleeping) and the lack of someone to talk to or something to do was lulling him, too. He was fighting the grogginess off when he felt Chaos shove him, hard. The Weapon barked something at him but the words were garbled; their meaning, however, was clear: _keep Galian down_.

 _Why_ he was given the order wasn’t immediately clear, though. Vincent was soaked in Chaos’s sense of urgency but he didn’t feel Galian stir. At least, not right away. While the gunman was still reeling from the mental shove, he felt Galian snap into awareness. Not being at the forefront of his mind allowed him to be more attuned with the Planet Protector’s overall presence, and what he felt emanating from the beast alarmed him enough to pounce on him and push him as far down his mind as he could. Galian wrestled him, growling angrily and lashing out with all his strength. Vincent felt his grip on Galian slipping a few times and he called out to Chaos for help on instinct; the Weapon never answered and the gunman couldn’t risk sparing a bit of his attention to feel what was going on outside; as it stood, he was barely keeping Galian under control.

As suddenly as it started, whatever emergency had thrown both of his guests into a frenzy came to a stop. Galian quit struggling and retreated to the further recesses of Vincent’s mind in a state similar to shame. The Turk didn’t follow him for two reasons: the Planet Protector had gone _too_ deep, almost as deep as he himself had gone after reading up on Fail-Safe, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to crawl up from there on his own; perhaps more importantly, he really wanted to know what had just happened. Chaos was still high strung so he didn’t relinquish his hold of Vincent’s body but he did make room for the gunman to have a look.

Vincent almost wished he hadn’t.

Zack and Kunsel’s tanks were still closed but Cloud’s had been torn open. There was glass and metal everywhere, and the liquid that had filled the tank was spilled all over the floor, what little remained of it making waves on the bottom part of the carcass left behind by Chaos’s claws. That’s when he realized that Chaos had at least partially transformed; now that he was aware of it, he detected a faint throbbing on his arms, which he knew would translate into bone-deep pain later on. He ignored it and tried to look around but Chaos scooted against the wall, plastering himself against it and holding something protectively against his chest. He made Vincent look at what (or rather, _who_ ) it was and the gunman choked on a gasp.

Chaos was holding an unconscious Cloud, his right claw gripping tightly onto the Soldier’s left bicep; a black ichor oozed from Cloud’s arm and it seemed like Chaos was trying to staunch the substance’s flow. In the same way he felt the throbbing in his arms, he could feel the ichor was scalding the Weapon’s skin and briefly wondered if it would show on his own hands once Chaos gave him his body back. When he backed against the wall again, Vincent realized he couldn’t hear anything and Chaos was once again in full control of his body, so he had no choice but to be a spectator in a strange silent horror show.

Gast was standing a few steps away from Chaos and Cloud, hands up in an attempt at appearing placating; Genesis and Angeal were behind the professor, looking haggard yet hyper-alert. Their weapons had been left at the door at Gast’s behest but Vincent knew the Commanders wouldn’t hesitate to lunge at Chaos barehanded if they thought he was a threat. The gunman hoped that Cloud’s vulnerable state would deter them from such a reckless action but it was all up in the air.

All of a sudden, he could hear again. The first thing that he registered was a low, constant rumbling coming from Chaos—a growl that was foreign in the Weapon but wasn’t uncommon in Galian. After that came Gast’s voice, trembling and strained, betraying his panic.

“Whatever that thing is, Chaos, it’s—”

“I _told you_ it’s Jenova,” Chaos spat.

“That’s not—”

“ _They_ feel it,” Chaos said, pointing with this chin towards the Commanders. “I can assure you the main body in the containment room feels it, too, and if you don’t do as I say and bring in Ifalna or Aerith I will personally hold you accountable for whatever happens to Cloud. Now _shut up_ and **_call them_**!!”

Gast flinched and jumped back but showed no intention of listening to Chaos’s instructions. He turned around and stopped on his tracks when he saw Genesis holding his phone against his ear. Before Gast had a chance to ask who the Commander was calling, the person on the other side picked up.

“Aerith darling, where are you?”

“Don’t you dare!”

Genesis threw his coldest, meanest stare to the professor and kept on talking. “There’s a bit of a situation going on, which is why I need you to do me a favour and come to the enhancement lab. Bring your mother if you can. I’ll explain when you get here. Thank you.”

He hung up and looked at Gast, daring him to say something or make a move. For a moment, it looked like Gast wouldn’t do either but he gave in to the impulse, in the end.

“Why would you bring them here? Even if it’s Jenova, which makes _no sense_ —”

Vincent felt like strangling the man, and he felt Chaos barely holding on to his self-control. Luckily, Genesis had managed to pull himself together and set things in perspective for the scientist.

“Chaos is right, we can feel her.” He paused and looked at Angeal; the other man sighed and nodded minutely. “I don’t know why, Professor, and honestly at this point it doesn’t matter; the reality is that we’re dealing with Jenova and your wife and daughter are our best bet to find a way to help Cloud and Chaos.”

Gast clearly wanted to keep arguing but he was forced to concede Genesis’s point. In an attempt to keep busy, he moved to inspect Zack and Kunsel’s vitals. Everything was in order and both Soldiers were still sedated. Since cancelling or delaying the procedure was unnecessary, he tried to talk Chaos into moving to another room. When all the Weapon did was shake his head vehemently, Gast sighed and turned to Genesis for help.

The Commander took a moment to wonder how he’d end up the official liaison between them but stepped into the role with ease.

“You don’t want to move or you can’t?”

“Can’t,” Chaos said. He sounded very stressed, rising all kinds of alarms for Genesis. “I have to focus or it will spread.”

Genesis looked at Cloud’s arm and the ichor still oozing from it. The skin around it was turning an ashy tone of green and sweat had broken all over the young Soldier’s body. Chaos’s sable skin rippled where it came into contact with the black ooze and there was a faint scent of burnt leather nearby. Trying his best not to wince, Genesis reached out to touch the substance but Chaos jerked Cloud away from the Commander with a warning growl.

“Don’t. It’s trying to get away.”

The auburn-haired man frowned and took a closer look at the substance. After a short while, he saw it crawling along, following the ashen pattern on Cloud’s skin and moving towards Genesis. There was a pool of it on the floor, too, and it seemed to be slithering towards his boots, as well. Unable to contain his disgust, Genesis took two steps back; his horror increased when the ichor seemed to follow him.

“Reunion,” Angeal said from behind him.

Genesis took yet another step back, confirming without a doubt that the ichor was moving towards him and Angeal. Chaos shifted his legs to block it and the thing stopped slithering along and began to vibrate in place, instead.

Vincent’s phone rang with Tseng’s tone, the traditional Wutain shamisen’s notes breaking through the loaded silence that had filled the room. After gaining silent permission, Genesis fished Vincent’s phone out of his jacket’s pocket and answered the call. As soon as Tseng heard the Commander’s voice instead of the Head Turk’s, the Wutain announced that he was on his way. Genesis tried to dissuade him but the call was over before he could try to explain. Feeling affronted, he tried to dial back but a low chuckle from Chaos stopped him.

“Let him come, it’s—“

Cloud moaned, curling in on himself and, by extension, closer to Chaos. The Weapon frowned and held him closer, hissing when the ichor trickled down his arm under Vincent’s shirt. He was about to try to peel the cloth off his skin when the blond sighed and uttered a single word that stopped him cold and had the other three awake men in the room look at him funny.

“Dad…”

Vincent’s heart stopped for a moment before aching uncomfortably. He’d known all along that Cloud saw him as a father figure but for him to instinctively call him _dad_ at such a vulnerable, stressful time… Chaos shared his unease and sighed deeply, curling protectively around the blond and tucking his damp hair under his chin, whispering ‘I’m here’ while rubbing his back as soothingly as his claw would allow.

“No wonder Sephiroth gets jealous…”

Chaos’s sudden movement made Cloud groan but neither the Weapon or Vincent minded that time as their whole attention was focused on Genesis. The Commander’s eyes were open wide and he had his lips tightly shut, something he probably wished he’d managed to do before blurting out such an awkward comment at an even more awkward time.

“Way to go, Gen.”

There was no time for apologies or explanations as Aerith and Ifalna walked into the lab with Tseng in tow. Gast walked up to the women immediately, trying to shield them from the mess that was the lab but largely failing. Tseng, on the other hand, walked past the shattered tank and the flustered Commanders to kneel next to Chaos. As soon as he noticed that one of his eyes was red he felt relief wash over him.

“Do I even want to know what happened?”

Chaos sighed heavily, shaking his head minutely. When Tseng asked what he could do to help, the Weapon looked past him towards the Cetra women huddled next to Zack’s tank. Both of them nodded and approached him with determined looks. When they got close to the black puddle next to Chaos’s knee, they stopped; Ifalna looked angry while Aerith paled a little, but neither stepped back.

Vincent felt Galian come to the surface now, not close enough to vie for control but enough to be felt by the Cetra and interact if necessary. The gunman noted that the Planet Protector still felt ashamed and was acting rather more tame than he’d expect given Jenova’s closeness. He attributed it mainly to Ifalna’s presence which was, in some measure, comforting.

“What do you need us to do?” Ifalna asked.

_If they can infuse water with Holy then we can wash Cloud’s arm and draw out the rest of this filth._

Chaos relayed the information and Aerith immediately reached for her mother’s headdress to disentangle Holy from it. The small orb glowed brightly in her hands, making the Weapon wince. Realisation filling her eyes, Aerith placed the materia behind her back and asked Genesis and Angeal to bring her a bucket of water and some clean gauze. While the men complied, she directed her attention to her mother, who had also reached the same conclusion.

“If you touch the water, Chaos…”

“I know. ‘Soul wrought of terra corrupt’ and all. I’ll be fine.”

_Will you?_

**_Yes. I won’t be able to take over for a while but I’d rather burn my own hands than chickening out of this and risk this disgusting thing making a run for it. Or worse, attacking anyone in this room._ **

Vincent really wanted to argue the point but knew Chaos was right, so he didn’t. When he saw Tseng was about to raise his own concerns, he shook his head, not entirely surprised that Chaos was allowing him some control. However, as soon as the Commanders returned with the things Aerith asked, he felt Chaos pushing him back a little, cutting off all sensory input so the pain wouldn’t filter through to the gunman’s consciousness. The move made even Galian nervous but neither of them said anything; this was Chaos’s decision.

Aerith and Ifalna knelt in front of the bucket of water and entwined their hands around Holy, lowering it into the water and angling themselves so the glow wouldn’t bother Chaos. After reciting a few words in Cetran, Holy pulsed a few times, mint-white tendrils of light gliding out of the bucket and over the floor; some of them weaved their way towards the dark pool at Chaos’s side, neutralising the ichor and dissolving it into clear Lifestream that faded into thin air. One of the light spirals continued its way towards Chaos but Tseng gently turned it away. Once the tendrils died out, Ifalna pocketed Holy while Aerith took the bucket and knelt next to the Weapon. She tried to find a way to get at Cloud’s arm without soaking Chaos’s claw in Holy water but there was no way.

“I’m sorry…”

Chaos smiled as reassuringly as he could and closed his eyes. He flinched when he felt Tseng’s hand on his shoulder but relaxed under its comforting weight. When the first splash of cold water hit his claw, though, he had to bite his lip to keep from screaming. At least the water took effect immediately and he wasn’t subjected to pain for long, but he still felt his skin burn and knit itself back together every time the gauze would graze him. It wasn’t until Tseng pried his fingers off Cloud’s arm so Aerith could get at the rest of the stain that Chaos was afforded some respite and he relaxed; his grip on Cloud remained even after Aerith was done washing his arm, though, and it took a lot of coaxing from Tseng and Vincent for the Weapon to allow Angeal to carry the blond away. He tried to stand up and follow them immediately after but found his legs didn’t have the strength to do it.

_I think it’s time you take a breather, Chaos._

**_What Genesis said—_ **

_Not now. I need to check in on Cloud._

_And make sure Sephiroth will not try to come back earlier._

_See? More than enough on our plate right now. Let me handle this._

With a heavy sigh, Chaos retreated and allowed Vincent back to the forefront. A drawn-out groan was the first thing out of the gunman’s lips; his arms ached and there was a persistent tingling where the Holy water had touched Chaos’s skin. He examined his hand and found no markings so the pain was likely to go away once Chaos had gotten some rest. His jacket was ruined where it made contact with the ichor; the same with his shirt but he only took off the jacket and tossed it towards the broken tank. Genesis was standing next to it, still looking guilty and fidgety. The gunman wasn’t in the mood to either delve into the Commander’s comment or to comfort him so he focused on getting up, which he managed with a bit of Tseng’s help. Gast and Ifalna were gone, presumably to tend to Cloud, so he had little choices to work with. In the end, he settled with leaning against the wall while bringing up Galian’s concerns about Sephiroth. That snapped Genesis into attention and the Soldier pulled out his phone to start making calls.

Aerith took Vincent’s hand in hers and recited a short spell that left him feeling energised and refreshed. He thanked her and then had Tseng help him towards the reception area to ask about Cloud’s whereabouts. Tseng tried to talk him out of staying with the blond until he woke up but the Head Turk wouldn’t back down, so the Wutain called Rufus and the others to let them know he’d be looking after Vincent. When they walked into Cloud’s room, he was already awake and Gast was taking his vitals while Ifalna checked his arm. Vincent nudged Chaos to get a reading off Cloud’s Lifestream.

**_It’s… Complicated. Jenova is dormant now that Holy cleared out the tainted mako from his system, but it’s not completely gone. He’s like Sephiroth and the other two now, except…_ **

_Except what?_

**_The strain of Jenova in his system is the same as Sephiroth’s, so they’re linked now. I can’t know how deeply until they interact with each other._ **

Vincent rubbed his face and debated whether to share the news with everyone present but was interrupted by Genesis and Aerith bursting into the room.

“Sephiroth’s missing and he’s not answering his phone.”

Cloud frowned and brought a hand to his forehead. It was there for only a second but Chaos saw his pupils shift into slits, like Sephiroth’s, and his concerns grew. The blond’s next words confirmed it all.

“He’s coming this way. He… He doesn’t know why but he feels he was to be here.” When Gast pushed for specifics, Cloud shook his head. “I don’t know… I’m sorry, it’s so confusing. I’m getting just garbled thoughts.” He blushed and looked away from Vincent. “He’s got a lot on his mind.”

The gunman didn’t like that look but wouldn’t pressure Cloud in front of everyone. After a quick consultation with Chaos and Galian, he told the rest to just let Sephiroth come over. Gast reluctantly agreed and excused himself to go check on the other two Firsts; Aerith and Angeal followed him while Ifalna, Genesis, and Tseng remained behind. Vincent tried to politely ask them to leave but each one had a reason to stay and putting up a fight sounded exhausting.

“How is Galian doing?” Ifalna asked.

Apparently, Gast had filled her in on what happened at the lab and she was worried the restraints on Galian wouldn’t hold much longer. Vincent reassured her that Galian was under control and that he had remained calm while Jenova was physically in the room. Just to be on the safe side, Ifalna reinforced her bond with the Planet Protector before excusing herself to go check on her family.

“How are you feeling, Cloud?” Vincent asked.

“Really good, all things considered. It’s just, this thing with the General… It’s really strange.”

Genesis sat at the foot of the bed and smiled reassuringly at Cloud. “If it’s anything like what the three of us share amongst us, it will fade with time. Even if it doesn’t, we found ways to ignore it. We can help you with it.”

Cloud nodded slowly. “Do I need to redo the enhancement session?”

Genesis and Vincent exchanged a look before the Commander shrugged and told him they would have to wait for Gast to do an evaluation. The blond nodded and said he didn’t want to miss the summit; Genesis was about to tell him not to worry about it when Vincent cut him short.

“You’ll come with us. Chaos wants to keep an eye on you and will be able to know if something is wrong even before you notice it yourself. I would feel better, too.”

Cloud seemed pleased with the answer but Genesis stood up and asked Vincent for a word in private. Tseng looked bemusedly between both men but told Vincent he’d keep Cloud company. After some hesitation—he had an idea what Genesis wanted to discuss and he wasn’t in the mood for it—, he followed the young man out to the hallway. Again, he allowed him to start the conversation.

“Are you sure taking Cloud to the summit after all this is such a good idea?”

Vincent felt the hairs on his arms and back stand as Galian’s hackles rose. After a placating word, he rolled his shoulders and crossed his arms over his chest before answering.

“I am. Are you sure you’re asking this for Cloud’s sake and not out of loyalty towards Sephiroth?” He didn’t pause when Genesis shot him an offended look. “So this has nothing to do with what you said at the lab?”

Genesis took a step back and a deep breath. “I _am_ worried about Cloud, just as I’m worried about Sephiroth’s reaction to all this.”

“All the more reason to keep him away from Cloud.”

“Then why did you say it was alright for us to let him come back?”

“The sooner we get a clear idea of how deep their link runs, the better. Also, do you really think we can stop the General once he’s taken a decision?”

The Commander shook his head. “Of course not; he’s as stubborn as his parents— _all_ of them. Vincent… About that thing in the lab…”

“There is no reason for Sephiroth to be jealous of Cloud, Genesis. If he does, that’s not my problem, and I won’t let him turn it into one for Cloud or myself. I hope you’ll make that abundantly clear to him.”

“You don’t plan to talk to him about it, then?”

“I told you before that I won’t address personal matters with him until the summit passes. Jenova’s little stunt hasn’t changed that.”

Genesis nodded, obviously affronted, and took his leave. Vincent returned to Cloud’s room to find the blond asleep and Tseng texting. When he saw Vincent come in, the Wutain looked at him curiously and the gunman gave him a brief explanation of what happened at the lab and his conversation with Genesis. Tseng smiled and shrugged, looking affectionately at Cloud.

“Family keeps getting bigger. It’s a good thing.”

Vincent nodded and asked Tseng to get him some food and a new pair of gloves. The Wutain nodded and left after hugging Vincent, leaving him with the impression that his second in command did it to derive comfort for himself as much as to provide some for his boss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GAH. I'm so, SO SORRY it took this long to update this. I had a terrible case of writer's block that nearly turned permanent, several fits of depression and self-hate towards my writing that got really scary, and then this chapter had a mind of its own. I have three, THREE drafts of it sitting on Scrivener. And it wanted to be longer! But I had to cut it short before it became a novella in and of itself.
> 
> The next chapter is in the works but I will make no promises or predictions about its release! I just hope you'll bear with me 'til the end, whenever it comes.

**Author's Note:**

> So, that's that for this chapter! Hopefully I'll finish up the second one in a week or two, so stay tuned!
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism are appreciated. Also, if you find typos or grammatical errors, in the name of Holy let me know! English is my second language, and although I've been studying it since I was five, I still muck up now and again.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
